Never Have I Ever
by starfire117
Summary: Beth and Daryl have been on their own for awhile now, looking for other survivors from the prison. As they continue to survive, they grow closer together. After finding a cabin full of moonshine, Beth teaches Daryl the game "Never Have I Ever". In return, Daryl teaches Beth a few lessons of his own. Together, they teach each other to survive. [alternate Season 4 storyline]
1. Chapter 1

_I've never been drunk and done something I've regretted._

_I've done lots of things._

**Author's Note**: This story takes place after the majority of the events between Beth and Daryl in "**Alone" (4.13)**, but Beth disappearing in the car never happens. Instead, they continue on their way together, resulting in my story. Everything else that happens in **Season 4** prior to this episode is still valid. Everything that happens to other characters in the remaining episodes of **Season 4** is also still valid. This is just an alternate route for the characters of Beth and Daryl.

"Daryl?"

I am greeted by the standard noncommittal grunt I have grown accustomed to. It has been weeks since we'd been on the run, since things went really bad, since The Governor came and killed my father, killed my friends, killed my home. Weeks of surviving in the wilds with Daryl, BECAUSE of Daryl. Without him, I know I would be dead. And undead. Several times over. But recently, I've come to realize that I've kept him alive just as much as he had me. He'd been retreating further and further into himself since the attack on the prison. But I refused to let him fall too far.

"What did you want to be? Before all this?" I asked. Often, in the quiet, still dark of the night, I tried to get Daryl to open up. Sometimes, it worked.

"The fuck you talkin' 'bout?" was the reply I got.

Most times, it didn't. But that didn't stop me. I know more often than not, my incessant questions and chatter annoyed Daryl. But I didn't care. I talked because I needed to, because he needed me to. Being annoyed was better than him feeling nothing at all. Besides, I lived for the few moments he did actually engage, for the few rare details he did share.

"You know, like, as a profession? I wanted to be a school teacher. I always loved learning and children and thought I could do some real good, make a difference..." I trail off, unsure if he's even still listening to me, or if he's perfected the art of ignoring me. "So yeah, you know: what did you want to be?"

For the first time all evening, since we set up camp here and made dinner [the taste of snake is starting to grow on me...], Daryl turns and looks at me. "Thought you were supposed to be so smart." he says. "Wantin' to be a teacher and shit. Looks like you don't listen too good. So lemme lay it straight for you: I didn't want to be nothing. I was nothing, I had nothing, and I was going to be nothing! Just being alive was good enough for me. 's 'bout all that could be 'spected of me." And with that, Daryl threw a bit of snake skin into the fire.

The silence between us was only broken by the sounds of the wood popping and cracking as our fire burned.

"Didn't you ever dream... or hope...?"

With a disgusted look, Daryl got up. "No, I didn't. I leave all the _dreaming_ and the _hoping_ to you," he sneers. "Why don't you go back your dreaming and hoping? I gotta piss; I'll take first watch."

He leaves me alone with the fire. As I roll over and try to settle in for the evening, I say a quick prayer for Maggie and the others, and for my father up in Heaven, and lastly for Daryl. Then I close my eyes and don't dream at all.


	2. Chapter 2

[Author's** Note: **I'll probably only be updating once a week after this, but since the last chapter was so short, I figured I'd make up for it by posting this early. Also! I would like to thank the first 5 people who have favourited/followed this story already. So this chapter is dedicated to you! It warms my heart =)]

The next day we continue walking through the woods. We've fallen into a comfortable rhythm of walking and tracking, making good progress as Daryl continues to teach me how to hunt and fend for myself. In terms of walkers, it's a slow day; no hoardes or groups, just single stragglers easily taken out with a knife. We don't allow ourselves to get too complacent though: all it takes is for one of us to let our guard down at the wrong moment and we're dead.

Speaking of not letting their guard down, Daryl is as surly as ever. Maybe even more surly. I thought I had been making progress after the moonshine incident and our brief stay at the funeral home. For awhile, I really thought I was getting somewhere with him. He didn't even mind my singing! I smile to myself, as I think back on our stay at the funeral home...

The way Daryl smiled and laughed. The way he carried me around and pulled out my chair: like a true gentleman! Mind you, it was because I was injured, so really it was more out of practicality than anything else. But still. I could feel the hope coming back us. I may talk a big game about hope and faith and never giving up, but it's just as hard on me as it is on the others. Maybe even more. As Daryl once pointed out, I had more to lose than he did before all this. Sometimes I wonder how God could let something like this happen. Not just the walkers, but everything that's happened to the people who try to survive. Good people, like my dad. But then I look at Daryl, and see him smiling, see him proud of what he's done and become, see him thriving in the world, and I think that God is really looking out for us, that maybe this is indeed all part of His divine plan. And that gives me hope.

Wanting to give Daryl some space, I start to veer left. There's some thick bushes here, and I'm hoping maybe some of them have some berries. I would kill for some berries! Anything sweet. I'm not as picky as I once was, I can't afford to be, but I can only eat so many squirrels and snakes before I go crazy.

As I'm cutting my way through the brush, I start humming. Not intentionally, I swear, it's just a habit, left over from before. I don't do it nearly as often as I used to, but sometimes, when everything seems calm, I can almost forget the horror we live in, and a song just needs to come out.

Suddenly, my foot catches on a root, and I go stumbling forward through the bushes. I catch myself, and as I'm cursing myself for my carelessness and cutting myself loose from the thicket, I realize it's not as quiet as I had thought. Without my humming, I can hear the snarls and growls coming from just beyond the bush. Looking up, I find myself almost face-to-face with a pile of walkers. Startled, I give a shout, before immediately clamping my hands over my mouth. It's too late: I've gained their attention.

With resolve, I draw up my knife and immediately plunge it into the forehead of the walker nearest me. Ripping my knife out, I lash out at the walkers in front of me. It's then I notice they're stuck in some sort of trap: all tangled up together in a pile of limbs and snarling heads. They reach forward for me, but don't have much range. If I can just get my ankle loose from this root... then I can take care of the remaining walkers, no problem.

I feel their hands reaching out for me as I struggle with my knife, the root stubborn and thick, refusing to yield my foot. I will not be bested by Mother Nature! I alternate between getting free and keeping the walkers at bay. After what feels like for ever, but what was probably only a few seconds, my knife saws through the root and I'm free. Not a moment too soon: I can feel the hot breath of the walkers beating down on me. With a triumphant cry, I pull myself up and push back at the walkers. I stab one... two... and am about to take care of a third when I feel something rush past me. Right where I was about to stab the walker lies the shaft of an arrow.

"Goddamn it! Get outta the way!" Daryl screams at me, shoving his way past me. Before I can react, he's stabbing and slashing his way through the pile. He plucks the arrow from walker's head and then plunges his knife into another, simultaneously beating off a third using his crossbow. The whole thing is over before it even began.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?" yells Daryl, as he turns back towards me.

"I had it under control!" I say, picking myself back up, testing my ankle gingerly. It's the second time this ankle has gotten me into trouble. If I'm not careful, it's going to be the death of me. Or Daryl.

"Like hell you did!" Daryl spits. "Runnin' off alone like that! I could kill you right now myself and save the both of us the trouble!"

"Running off? I wasn't _running off_! I was hunting and tracking and doing exactly what you were doing!" I could not believe I was having this argument with Daryl. "I am not a child! I'm not some _little girl_! You don't have to take care of me! I can take care of myself!" As I say that, I realize how petulant I sound, much like the child I claimed to not be.

"Oh no, you're some grown-ass woman, now aren'tcha? Drinkin' moonshine, playin' games... what's next? Spin-the-Bottle? Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

I start to blush, as I realize the nature of those games and the fact that the only person around to play them with was...

"Or how about some Five Finger Fillet? Hmm? Here!" Daryl flips open a switchblade from his belt. "Gimme your hand! Show me how _grown up_ you are!"

"Daryl!" I hiss. "Calm down! You're attracting walkers!"

"Yeah! You're just an expert on walkers now huh?" Daryl continues shouting.

SLAP!

The silence that rings echoes through the woods. I'm shocked at what I've done, but I don't back down, staring Daryl dead in the eyes. Daryl massages his cheek, switchblade still open in his other hand, staring right back. Something about that slap seems to have snapped him out of his rant. "Yeah, you slap like bitch." he mutters, eying me up and down.

"Look, I'm sorry for scaring you, and I'm grateful for the assistance, but Daryl..." I sigh. "You can't keep treating me like I'm some fragile flower. You know I'm not. You've been teaching me how to hunt, how to track. I'm getting stronger, better. Treating me like I'm some invalid is only going to get the both of us killed." With that, I start to walk away from the scene. As I put pressure on my ankle, I wince.

"You ain't been bit?" Daryl rushes to my side.

"No, it's the same ankle as before. It's just been re-aggravated."

"Yeah, I know what it's like to be re-aggravated by you."

"Haha"

"Looks to me like you are some invalid. Lucky for you, while you were off gettin' yourself nearly eaten, I found us a place to crash tonight."

"Wait, a _place_? As in, indoors? No camping?"

Daryl smiles. Sometimes I wonder if I should be alarmed by his mood swings. More often than not though, I'm just glad for something other than "surly" and "brooding". "Yeah, a real home-sweet-home." he says. "Come, it's just on the other side of this grove."

Without looking to see if I'm following, Daryl starts walking, our fight all but forgotten. But I know better. It's just Daryl's way of dealing with things: suppressing the feelings, moving on, focusing on nothing but survival and the here and now.

I start to hobble forward, rushing to catch up to Daryl. My ankle doesn't hurt too badly at the moment, but I worry about the long-term effects. With a sigh, Daryl walks back to me and crouches down in front of me.

"Damn you're gettin' spoiled. Better not be 'specting the royal treatment every day now, princess." he says. "I ain't hauling your ass around full-time, you hear me?"

I roll my eyes. "You don't have to you know. I can still stumble around with the best of them."

"Yeah, but by the time you get to the place, it'll be dark, and with all that shamblin', I might think you a walker and shoot you. And wouldn't that be a shame?"

I climb onto Daryl's back, piggy-back style. "Yeah, I mean, who would sing you to sleep every night and annoy you?" I tease him.

Daryl smiles slightly. "Careful, I might just leave you here after all."

But he carries me anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

We get to the place with just enough daylight left to explore our new surroundings. As we approach, I see a small wire fence marking the edge of the property. It's not much, but it's better than nothing, and Daryl and I can set up obstacles and early alarm systems using it.

As we come around through the back of the property, through the grove, I notice 4 graves: two older, two newer. People who were loved were buried here. I make a note to come back later and pay my respects. It's the least I can do considering we'll be using their property for some time.

There's a pecan tree too. "Look Daryl! Pecans!" I say excitedly, pointing at it.

"Yeah, yeah, I've got eyes."

"Well, you could be more excited."

Daryl just grunts in response. Looking ahead, I see that we're coming up on a small house. It's a quaint little cottage, reminding me almost of something out of a fairy tale, like Snow White's cottage with the dwarves.

"It ain't much..."

I sigh. "Oh Daryl, it's perfect!"

"Yeah, I figure you might like a roof and an actual bed for a change. Plus you know, your ankle..."

I'm touched that Daryl cares. "Hey, I'm not complaining about the camping! I'm just happy to be alive! I stopped being picky a long time ago." I sigh again, and a smile escapes. "But yeah, this is pretty awesome!"

"You ain't done seein' the best part." Daryl says, as we enter the back door. I start to climb off his back, but he just hangs on tighter. "Whoa there, not so fast." He then carries me around the corner, through another doorway and-

"A kitchen? A real-live kitchen? Does this stove work? The oven?" At this discovery, not even Daryl can keep a hold of me. I scramble down, momentarily forgetting about my ankle, rushing to touch the stove. Sighing, I turn back to Daryl. "I miss baking. I used to bake the best cookies."

Daryl chuckles. "Why am I not surprised?" Motioning to the cupboards and the counter, he continues. "Ain't got much in the ways of good foods. Some oats, bit o' flour... looks like someone started somethin' with the pecans. Found a few cans o' soup and the honey'll be nice. Won't be adding much to our stock, but 's good 'nough."

I start to think. Honey, oats, flour, pecans... if I could just find some... "Well!" I say cheerily. "We should probably secure the perimeter while we still have some daylight! You take the front, I take the back?"

"And what 'bout that ankle o' yours? Nope, you're sittin' right here." Daryl pulls out a chair and points to it.

I roll my eyes. "Come on Daryl! I mean, yes, my ankle is sore, but I think it can hold up long enough for a perimeter check. Besides, I won't go far and you can't secure the whole place by yourself before night falls." I can see Daryl looking out the window, weighing the options. As I take in our surroundings, I spot something by the door. "And here, I'll use this cane. It can double as a weapon!" I give Daryl a hopeful smile.

"Fine. But I ain't rescuin' you this time."

"You won't have to! Besides, we walked around the back twice and there were no walkers. This is just to set up alarms and stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, day's a wastin'"

Exploring the grove, I look around for anything that might be useful. This seems like the kind of place someone would have a garden. Fresh vegetables would be nice for a change. As I set up a perimeter line, I spy the pecan tree again. "It's a good thing someone's already picked a decent supply of you, 'cause I don't think I'll be climbing you anytime soon." I say to it. Even though Daryl and I haven't stayed in any one place for more than a night, I think I might ask him if we can stay here for a couple. It'd be nice not to be on the run for a change, plus my ankle could really use some rest.

However... "Oh Maggie," I sigh. I really do think she's still alive. Her, and Glenn, and Rick and Carl, and the others. It's just a matter of finding them. Can we afford to stop looking for a day to rest up and enjoy what we've found? Is it selfish? Does it mean I'm giving up?

"No," I say to myself, shaking my head. "I will never give up on Maggie, on the others."

Continuing to make my rounds, I debate with myself over whether or not I should ask Daryl about spending more than one night here.

"Dear God, please give me a sign. I don't know what to do!"

Over my shoulder, I hear a rustling sound. I turn to look, and I see a deer leaping into the bushes. Despite knowing that I startled it and that it's probably long gone by now, I approach quietly, carefully, anyway. As I get closer to where it had been, I see what it had been preoccupied with:

"Wildberries! Yes!" Excitedly, I pick a few and pop them into my mouth. They burst open with a sweet juiciness that I have long missed. Realizing I had brought nothing to hold them in, I decide I'll have to come back later to get them. That then gives me a great idea. Daryl will be in for a surprise in the morning.

Tying off the last of the string denoting our perimeter, I start to head back towards the house. Smiling to myself, I whisper, "thanks", as those berries were just what I needed to make my decision: I'll talk to Daryl, see if we can stay here for two nights instead of just one. Maggie will understand, I think, as I try not to put too much pressure on my ankle. As I see the house come into view, I pass by those graves again. Noticing some flowers growing nearby, I stop to pick a bunch. I then approach the graves to say a few words.

"I may not know who you are, but I hope you're at peace now, and in a better place. You were clearly loved and cared for, and that's more than what some of us get in our lives. May God be with you now, as He is with me now."

I lay the flowers down, a few at each grave. One of the graves is so fresh, the dirt still looks loose and disturbed. Frowning, I hesitate to put the flowers down for a second, as I lean closer to get a better look. That's when I notice them: fingers, twitching up from the dirt.

"Shit!" I say, reaching for my knife. Grasping my knife in my fist, I realize I have nothing to plunge it into. This body, this walker, is still mostly buried, and I don't feel like digging it up just to take care of it. I sit for a few minutes, transfixed by the fingers slowly pushing their way through the dirt, as bit by bit, hands start to emerge.

"Beth!" I hear Daryl calling for me.

"I'm out back!" I yell back. "I'm okay! I'll be in in a few minutes!"

It shouldn't be long now: now that the hands are fully exposed, the walker is gaining traction as it digs its way out of its shallow grave.

I draw in a sharp breath. These hands... they're so small. This walker is merely a child, lost to the tragic circumstances of our world. My eyes start to tear up, as I imagine the parent who had to bury this child, perhaps too sad to make sure they wouldn't ever come back. I draw my shoulders back and take a deep breath. I can do for this child what their parents were unable to do: I will give it its final rest.

I sit there, watching, as more and more of the small walker surfaces. Hands, arms, shoulders... I can hear it snarling now, as the head starts to rise out of the dirt. Pulling myself back, readying my knife, I see the blonde head shake off its grave, seeking flesh. Locking in on me, I stare it straight in the eyes as the face emerges.

And I scream.


	4. Chapter 4

"BETH!" I hear Daryl yell, as he comes flying out the backdoor, running towards me. He's got his crossbow in one hand, a knife in the other.

I scurry backwards on the ground, out of reach of the walker, of _Mica_, who's still half-buried and struggling to get out of her grave. In my shock, I drop my knife. But it doesn't matter. There is no way I can use it against Mica. Not right now at least. If I had seen her get bitten, seen her turn, had time to process it, I would've been able to do what's necessary. But this was the last thing I was expecting.

"Beth!" Daryl calls again, looking around. Spotting me, he comes running. At first, he doesn't even see her, just sees me. He grabs my arm and pulls me further back.

"Mica! Mica!" I scream over and over again. "Oh god, Daryl, it's _Mica_!" I'm sobbing uncontrollably.

Daryl stops short. "What?" For once, he seems genuinely shocked and taken aback. He looks from me, to the walker, and in that moment he realizes what I'm saying. "Oh shit." he says, lowering himself onto the ground beside me.

For a minute, the only sounds heard is my sobbing and the snarls coming from Mica, as she continues to slowly claw herself forward and out of the grave.

"Beth," Daryl says quietly, not taking his eyes off of Mica. "Beth, we have to stop her."

It feels like his voice is coming from far away. "I- I know." I hiccup. "Damnit Daryl, _I know_, it's just- it's Mica! Where's Lizzie? Is _that_ Lizzie?" I say, pointing to the other new grave. "Is it Carl? Michonne? Tyreese? Glenn?" I grab Daryl's shirt and turn him to face me. "Is it Maggie? How did this happen? Someone was here. People survived and they were here and then something happened and now Mica is dead and who knows-!" I'm getting hysterical.

Daryl pulls me in close, pressing my face against his chest. "I know." he says quietly. "And we'll find them. If people survived, we'll find them. They were here, which means we can track them. We'll figure this out. But right now," he pulls away to look at me, "right now, we need to take care of Mica."

Gulping, I nod. I know we have to do what's right, even if it's hard. Oftentimes, the best things to do are the hardest. Wiping my eyes, I nod again. "Okay."

By this point, Mica is mostly free from the ground. The only thing holding her back are her feet and ankles. We have to stop her before she gets loose completely and can actually come after us. Daryl looks at me, and I nod, letting him know to just go and do it. Taking a deep breath, he grabs Mica by the hair. Snarling, she wants to get at him, but she can't. She's still trapped in her grave, partially buried, clawing pathetically at the air. She snaps her jaws at Daryl, but he's got a firm hold on her, won't let her get near him. I want to look away, and as I do, I catch the look in Daryl's eyes. The sadness and regret. I don't know what he's thinking, but in that moment, I know he feels deeper than anyone from the prison could have ever imagined.

"Wait!" I cry out. "Let me do it."

Daryl pauses, holding his breath, not making a sound. Then he slowly exhales and asks "You sure?"

No, I don't want to do this at all. But I know I have to. For Daryl. Tears streaming down my face, I nod. "Yes. I have to." Daryl looks up at me, wary. "For Mica." I add. "I owe it to that little girl."

Nodding, Daryl holds out his knife to me. Still gripping Mica's hair, he moves aside as I crawl forward. I look down at Mica, or rather at the walker that was once Mica, and I pause for a moment as I think of the bright little girl I remember seeing running around the prison, and taking part in Carol's storytime hour. For a split second, my vision blurs with tears, and it's not Mica I'm seeing, but myself, the little girl I once was. But just as this walker is no longer the little girl I remember, neither am I. With a swift motion, I plunge the knife into Mica's head. The deed done, I bury my head in my hands and sob, crying for a little girl who never got to grow up, and a little girl who had to grow up too fast. There are so many things that Mica will never have the chance to do. But I'm still here.

Daryl removes the knife from Mica's head. As Daryl lets Mica's body drop to the ground, I swear I hear him mutter "sorry".

He then picks me up off the ground, but before he can carry me away, I grab him and pull him into a tight hug. For a moment, we're just standing there, leaning on each other, while I sob. I'm sure Daryl's crying too, but I'll never know. I bury my face into his shoulder and give him the privacy he needs. I reflect on how much things have changed, not just since before and after the walkers, but even before and after the incident at the prison. How far Daryl and I have come together. As we walk back towards the house, I realize that Daryl is depending on me for support just as much as I'm depending on him. For all my assertion that I am stronger and more grown-up and independent than people give me credit for, I sometimes never truly believe it myself. It's times like these that I know, _I know_, that it's true. And as I let Daryl lead me to the couch and get me settled against the cushions, it's not because of my own weakness; it's because it's what Daryl needs.

Because I know what Daryl needs now and when. I know when he needs me to be optimistic and hopeful; when he needs me to chatter on incessantly, not letting him fall too deep within himself and his thoughts; when he needs to be left alone to feel; and when he needs to feel stronger than me.

So I let Daryl take care of me. Not because I'm not strong enough, but because I am stronger than anyone will ever know.


	5. Chapter 5

I sit on the couch, waiting for him to return. Daryl's gone back out there to double-check the perimeter. He wants to make sure all the noise didn't attract any new walkers. He also wants to re-bury Mica. I'll go visit her in the morning to pay my respects.

About an hour later, Daryl comes back in, sweaty and covered in more dirt than usual. Taking the mug out of my hand, he gives it a sip before spitting it back out. "What the fuck is that shit?" he says, wiping his mouth.

"Boiled water and honey," I say. "We don't exactly have any tea or coffee lying around, so this was the best I could come up with. I figured it would calm me down."

Daryl grunts and starts poking around at stuff. He picks up figurines from the mantle and puts them back, seemingly restless. "Soup?" he asks, heading back into the kitchen without waiting for a response. I hear him opening cupboards and getting stuff ready, but nothing else. After a few minutes, I decide to go follow.

I enter the kitchen and rinse my mug in the sink. Daryl's got soup cooking in a pot on the stove. He reaches up and gets bowls out of the cupboard. "Wow," I say. "Eating out of bowls tonight? We really are living the high life now!"

Daryl nods and makes some affirmative sounds, dividing the soup up between us. Setting a bowl in front of me, he picks up his own spoon and is about to eat, when he pauses. "Go on," he says. "I know you're gonna."

Oh! "Thank you Father, for the food we are about to receive and I ask you to bless this meal and everyone at this table, and to continue looking over Maggie and the others, wherever they are. Amen." I say, surprised. Usually Daryl just dives right in and I say my blessing in my head or quietly to my food.

We eat in silence for a few minutes. It's then that I notice that something's wrong. Not just in the way that Daryl won't look at me, but in the way he's holding himself.

"Thank you." I start.

"For what?"

"For everything. For today. For helping me with the walkers, for carrying me, for finding this place... for Mica. Just, thanks."

Daryl grunts in response, while I continue. "And thanks for... you're right: we'll find them, whoever they are. Someone was here and we'll track them down. It's funny, because I've always been the one so determined we'll see people again, that we'll find Maggie and the others... when really I had no proof or evidence of that. We find our first concrete sign the people escaped, that they really are out there, and I lose it!" I take a deep breath. "I guess it's just scary... knowing for sure? And seeing Mica dead..." I hesitate. "It just confirms that not everyone did make it. Or that even if they did, they might still be gone anyways."

Daryl gets up. "You done with that?" he says, looking at my empty bowl. I pass it to him.

"So, I was thinking earlier, maybe we should stay a couple of nights? Bind my ankle up real good and let it get some rest. We can pick a whole bunch of pecans and bake them with some honey so that they'll keep and I found some berries earlier that we could pick..." I trail off as Daryl leaves the kitchen. I quickly get up to follow him.

"But you know, that was before- before we found Mica and found out that other survivors had been here!" I say following him back out to the main room. "I mean, that's a pretty solid lead! The best we've had so far. So maybe we should head out first thing in the morning? We don't want the trail getting cold, right? We might even be able to catch up!"

Daryl's now sitting on the couch where I was before, still not looking at me. Something's not right. While Daryl has pretended to ignore me in the past, he's never been this blatant about it. He's never walked away from me while I was talking, not unless there was reason. I think back on everything that's transpired since he came back into the house, and I realize that he hasn't once looked right at me.

"Daryl?" I say quietly, going to sit in the chair opposite him. "What's wrong?" The silence stretches as Daryl doesn't respond. "Daryl," I press him, "I know something is wrong. You're... surlier than usual." Daryl snorts. "Seriously," I continue, "if something is wrong, you have to tell me. We can't keep secrets, not from each other, not right now. Not if it might put us in danger."

After what feels like for ever, Daryl turns and looks at me. Then he looks away, hesitating. I lean forward, and put my hand on his knee. He looks up at me, and suddenly shy, I quickly remove my hand. "Daryl, whatever it is, I need to know. I can handle it."

Daryl gets up, and goes to look out the window. Quietly, he says, "Mica wasn't bit."

I'm not sure I've heard him correctly. "What do you mean?"

He turns back and looks at me. "'xactly what I just said: she weren't bit." Daryl shrugs and comes back to the couch. "Before I buried, I looked her over. She hadn't been bit. She'd been cut, pretty badly, and stabbed at the base of her head, looks like they just missed the brain... but she didn't have no bite marks."

Sitting back in my chair, I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around them. Shaking my head, I say, "No, that's not possible." I feel sick to my stomach. "What do you mean by cut? Cut how?"

Daryl rubs his face. "I've seen a lot of things," he starts. "Been huntin' almost all my life; I know my cuts. It was- she was- It was on purpose. It was like she was gutted. Eviscerated. Her stomach, her heart. It was an amateur, but they weren't no coward."

Daryl pauses a moment, before saying, "It gets worse."

Worse? How could this get worse? A little girl is dead, murdered it seems, and it gets worse? "How?" unable to disguise the horror and disgust in my voice.

"You sure you wanna hear this? Fuck it, no, you _need_ to hear this." Before I can say anything, Daryl says, "The other one _was_ Lizzie."

"You- you dug up the other grave?"

"Yeah, figured there had to be somethin' in what you were sayin'. Figured we oughta know 's much as we can."

"Was she... was she-?" I almost can't bring myself to say it. "Was she cut too?"

"No." Daryl says shortly. Suddenly, he stands up and picks up the little angel figurine that was sitting on the table next to him and throws it against the wall. "She was shot in the back of the head!"

"What? No! That- that doesn't make any sense!" I cry. None of this does. If I had any doubts before, any delusions, about the circumstances of Mica's death... this confirms it. "They were murdered?"

"Yeah." Daryl says. "I don't know what happened, I don't know who died first, or why they died in different ways, I don't know who done it... but I'mma gonna find out and kill them sons o' bitches who hurt them girls!"

I've never seen Daryl so fired up. Not sober at least. I can't say it was a _nice_ change, but it was sure different from a lot of what I'd seen from him lately. I thought after we'd burn that cabin, he'd have reached some sort of inner peace and be able to move on. And while he did seem better for a while, he was soon again all business, mostly about survival. This though, this gave him purpose again, a goal, something tangible that was more than just surviving day to day. A part of me was excited, but mostly I was anxious. I didn't want to go on some revenge trip. Furthermore...

"Daryl?" I said tentatively. "Mica and Lizzie wouldn't have been here by themselves. There's no way they would've gotten this far from the prison on their own. That means they had to have been with someone else. What if- I mean, what happened-?" I swallow. "What happened to them? You don't think-?"

"What? That Rick did this? Tyreese? _Maggie_? You think any one of our people woulda killed them two girls in cold blood like that? Nah, if them girls weren't alone, then they was probably just in the way for whoever did kill them. I'm bettin' whoever was with them has been taken by those that killed them."

I nod. "You're right. But if we're going to rescue them, then we've got to keep a clear head"

"Damn straight." Daryl says, taking a deep breath, calming himself down. "We're gonna have to play this smart. It's gonna take the both of us." He looks down at me. "How's your ankle?"

I grimace. "I think it'll be fine. It's probably just a sprain or a pulled muscle. Nothing long-term. We'll have to bind it though and be careful."

"You sure you're up to this?"

"If our people need our help, you really think I'm going to just let you go on without me? Or let us ignore them because of me?"

"No, but I don't wanna see you get killed or caught either."

"I won't."

But Daryl and I both know that there's no way either of us can be sure of that.


	6. Chapter 6

As Daryl does one last perimeter check, I start to get ready to sleep. Lying alone in the dark, I'm nagged by a feeling that I'm forgetting something. Something important. Just as I'm drifting off, I hear Daryl come back. He probably thinks I'm asleep, I can tell because he's actually taking care to be quiet. Daryl doesn't think I notice, but I know he cares about me, about all of us, and it's in the little details that I know it's real. Anyone can show outward concern and do big gestures, such as helping the injured. It's the way Daryl pretends like I don't affect him when I'm awake, but then goes out of his way to be courteous when he thinks I'm sleeping that lets me know.

He must've found a blanket, because the next thing I know, one is being draped over me and I hear Daryl whisper "goodnight". Deep down, Daryl is a softie, caring and nurturing, covering me up when I can't do it myself...

Suddenly I bolt up.

"Holy fuck shit!" Daryl cries, jumping back. "What the fuck are you doing? Suddenly leaping out like that in the middle of the night? I thought you was sleeping!"

"Daryl!" I say, looking at him with wide eyes. "If Lizzie and Mica were killed by strangers... by cold-hearted survivors who just wanted them out of the way so they could use whoever they were with... why were Lizzie and Mica buried? Wouldn't they had just been left out in the open?"

I watch as I see what little colour is in Daryl's face drain. It's the exact thing that had been bothering me, that had been on the tip of my tongue since Daryl told me the news.

"Shit." is all Daryl can say.

"I know. I know we don't want to think that our own people did this... but I mean... who else would bury them? Who else would take them time to make sure they didn't come back?"

It's as if Daryl is breaking. All the fire that was in him earlier is gone. He just looks sad. "Well, if it were one of us, we've gots to find them anyways, else we'll be askin' questions all night. Findin' survivors is what you're all about right? So we'll find them, for better, for worse, and we'll find out what happened. Either way."

It's strangely calm and rational, what Daryl is saying. "But what if they did kill them?" I start to ask.

"Don't!" Daryl cuts me off. "We ain't gonna think 'bout that! We're gonna stick with the plan: findin' others. And whatever happens happens."

I nod, sinking back down into the couch. Daryl's right. There's no use thinking about what might have happened and speculating on stuff we don't know about. All that matters, all that ever matters, is finding Maggie and any other survivors, and just surviving ourselves. Everything else, we'll deal with as it comes.

"Alright," I say. "Goodnight Daryl."

"Yeah, you too." Daryl replies.

Except I can't fall asleep. Daryl seems restless, or maybe upset, so he wanders around the perimeter during his watch, rather than just sitting inside, leaving me alone. I drift in and out of sleep in fits, never staying out for very long. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is Mica coming out of that grave, coming at me. That sweet little girl, turned into some horrible monster. And then, despite knowing how useless it is, I can't stop thinking about Lizzie and Mica, about what happened to them in first place. Why were they dead? They hadn't been bitten. They were clearly buried with care. So what happened? Who did what? Who are we going to find at the end of this trail? Are we gonna like what we find? A lot has happened since the prison: I've changed, Daryl's changed; who else has changed?

As I'm mulling this all over, shifting on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, Daryl comes back in. I freeze, not wanting him to know I'm awake, figuring he won't be up for talking anyways. After a moment of silence though:

"I know you're awake. You been making more noise in here than walkers out there." Daryl says, calling me out. "With all that shiftin' and moanin', I was almost 'fraid to come back inside, wonderin' what you was up to." he adds.

I can't tell if he's joking or not. Normally he'd have given me a smirk or a wink, but this time I've been given nothing. Blushing, I stammer, "I wouldn't! I mean, I don't know what you're talking about! I- I just couldn't sleep."

At this, Daryl does give me a bemused smile, before quickly looking away. "Mmm-hmm. If I had a dollar for everytime I used that line on Merle..." he says trailing off, suddenly sounding uncomfortable.

"Really Daryl," I say earnestly. "I just couldn't sleep. And you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm sure you've done plenty more than just 'not sleep'." I add wryly.

Daryl grunts. "Why couldn't you sleep? Ain't dwelling on shit, are ya?"

I give Daryl a look. "It's called _thinking_, not dwelling." I reply.

"Thinkin'... Dwellin'... 's all the same shit. Useless. Ain't gonna get us nowhere. Won't help us none when the walkers come." Daryl says. "What will help? Sleep! Ain't doing no surviving if yer already dead on yer feet."

"I'm _trying_ to Daryl." I say. "I just... I just can't."

"Stop thinkin' bout them girls. It's over."

"That's just it, Daryl: it _is _over." I look up at him. "It's not just the image of Mica... being like that... that I can't get out of my head. I mean, yeah, that was bad, but I dunno." I shrug. "A walker's a walker, right?"

Daryl shrugs but doesn't say anything. I continue. "It's just... I keep thinking of how it's over for Mica. For Lizzie. I keep thinking of all the things they won't get to do... that they never got to do. They never got to grow up. Never skipped curfew and made their parents angry. Never had a slow dance. Never fell in love. Never had a first kiss. Never..." I trail off. "I don't want that to be me."

"This ain't 'bout no moonshine and wantin' to get drunk again, is it?"

"No!" I shout, sitting up further. "I mean... kinda. But not specifically that. I mean, I've done that now. But there's still so much I haven't done!" Looking Daryl straight in the eye, I say, "I want to experience as much of life as I can. The good and the bad."

Daryl breaks eye contact with me. "Well, got plenty o' bad, so no problems there." he says, shuffling away. "Don't know how much good there'll be, but yeah, whatever, I hear ya."

I can tell he doesn't though. "There's still lots of good! Every sunrise and sunset is good! There's good in flowers and nature. There's good in caring about people. About falling in love. Look at Maggie and Glenn!" Daryl snorts. "What? Are you saying you don't believe in love?"

"I dunno, but with the world goin' the way it's goin', I suspect that many people are just clingin' to what they can. Beggars can't be choosers, you know?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, okay, but then what about before? Before all this happened? You're saying you've never been in love? But you'd been with girls before! I know you have."

Daryl snorts. "Bein' with a girl ain't the same as love. You tellin' me you were _in love_ with Zach? That why you didn't cry?"

"I was never... _with _Zach." I say, willing myself not to blush or look away. "I mean, I was dating him and he was nice... but yeah. I wasn't in love with him, so we never..." At this I trail off and look away. But then I snap my attention back to Daryl. "Wait, so you never, ever, not even once, loved any of the girls you were with?"

Daryl shrugs. "I dunno. I cared 'bout them enough. Some of 'em at least. Wasn't like I was cruel or wished them ill or whatever. But it wasn't no fairy tale with princesses and knights, if that's what you askin'."

I nod. "So you've never been in love?"

Daryl throws his hands up in exasperation. "Yes goddamn it, that is what I am sayin'! But hey," he says, catching my eye. "Don't you go pityin' me. I ain't no worse for it. And it sounds to me that if want to _live your life_ and _experience everything_, you'll be throwin' out your fantasy of a perfect night with rose petals and soft sheets and candles and shit. If you're waitin' on love, you'll be waitin' a long time. So that's one thing you'll never experience."

"Nope. I refuse to give up. I will find love and I will experience everything it brings. I'm not stupid. I know that not every time people... _have sex_... it's for love. I know that." I look Daryl straight on and continue. "But I want my first time to at least mean something. To be with someone who cares about me, who I care about... someone I love."

Daryl grunts. "Whatever. Now you done talkin'? Be mornin' soon enough and if you want a chance in hell at catching up to whoever, we best be headin' out at first light." And with that, Daryl tosses a cushion at me and walks off.

As I settle back down, I think about what I said. I do still believe in love, and I know that I can find it out there. Tomorrow is a new day, and with Daryl by my side, I know I can face whatever it brings.


	7. Chapter 7

[**Author's Note:** As we have now started **Season 5** of the show, it's important for me to note that the path my story is taking will be completely different from what see in the show from here on out. I may or may not draw inspiration from events in the show, but generally, my story is now completely separate from the canon.]

I wake early the next morning, the sun just barely starting to peek over the horizon. I look over and see Daryl passed out in an armchair, cradling his crossbow. Knowing I'm taking a risk, I walk up to Daryl and carefully pull it out of his arms. He's in such a deep sleep that he barely stirs. I set it down on the floor beside him and let him be. I know he said that we should leave as early as possible, but I can't help but let him sleep some more. He looks at ease for a change. He could probably use the rest.

Testing my ankle, I see that it's much better. I'll still have to be careful of course, but I should be fine. I take a walk outside, checking the perimeter, to see if any walkers have shown up during the night. There's a few stragglers caught up in our traps, but nothing life-threatening. I take care of them and continue on my way.

I walk back to the graves, the ones I know now are Lizzie and Mica. The dirt around both of them looks freshly turned from Daryl's digging, but otherwise neat and tidy. I take a moment to gather some flowers and arrange them at the heads, saying a quick prayer for them. I make their graves look as nice as I possibly can, given the circumstances.

Armed this time with a bowl, I pick all the wildberries I can. Bringing them back inside, I get to work with the flour, oats, honey and pecans, making a sort of make-shift crumble. After I put it into the oven, I start to tidy things and take inventory of what we have and what's in the house we can use. By the time the crumble is done, I've got two piles of supplies, ready to be distributed and repacked between Daryl and me.

I've just taken the crumble out of the oven and set it on the stove to cool when Daryl comes sauntering in. Still half-asleep, he rubs his eyes as he comes up behind me. "Mmm..." he murmurs, his breath feeling impossibly close to my ear. "A guy could get used to this."

My own breath hitching in my throat, I reply, "Well, don't, because we've got to get going."

Daryl backs away groaning. "You can't even let me enjoy this delicious breakfast before you shatter this illusion?"

"Of domesticity?" I say, my breath coming back to me, cheeks colouring a bit. "Nope! Now eat up!"

Daryl gleefully digs in. Despite all the horror from yesterday, the good night's sleep coupled with the surprise breakfast seems to have perked him up. "Ughhhhh..." Daryl says moaning. "Good lord girl, you woulda made a damn good housewife!"

Blushing more, I laugh as I serve myself. "Not really. I can't sew, I broke more dishes than I washed and I never learned to make a pot roast." Taking a bit of crumble myself, I add, "But I did learn how to bake!"

"That you did! No arguin' there!"

Laughing some more, I watch as Daryl eats. I know he hasn't forgotten yesterday and that this is all just a coping mechanism for him. Still, I can't help but smile at him. Remembering our conversation from yesterday, I take pleasure in what good there is in our lives, in the simple joys. Every smile from Daryl is like a small victory. The crumble all gone, Daryl grabs his plate and mine, and heads to the sink to rinse them.

"Now look who's being domestic?" I tease. "Looks like _you _might've made a pretty housewife yourself!"

Daryl whips away from the sink, splashing me with water from his hands. "Oh no you don't girlie!" he says with a grin. "You don't get to call me a pretty housewife and get away with it!"

Laughing, I duck behind the table. "But you are Daryl!" I giggle. "You're as pretty as a picture!"

Daryl makes a grab for me, but I dance out of reach. Chasing me around the table, he finally corners me and pulls me in close. Rubbing his wet hands on my face and in my hair, he says, "You take it back!" laughing.

"Eww, Daryl! Stop! Ugh!" I laugh, trying to shield my face from the cold wet onslaught. "Okay, okay, I take it back! You _wouldn't_ make a pretty housewife!"

Daryl straightens up, wiping the last of his hands on my shirt. "Damn right girl!" he says. "And don't you forget it!" he adds smirking and walking away.

"Nope!" I call out, continuing. "You'd make an _ugly_ housewife!"

At that, Daryl turns around again and lunges for me faster than I expected. Pulling me into a headlock, he starts giving me a noogie.

"Really? _Really_, Daryl? A _noogie_? What are you? 10 years old?" I laugh, trying to escape.

Laughing, Daryl stops. "Alright, alright. But just so you know, I ain't doin' the dishes again. Hell, I ain't normally doin' dishes. The fuck's the point in this world? Dishes be the last thing on my mind. Guess I was just tryin' to show a little gratitude for the breakfast. This what I get for being a gentleman?" he asks, straightening up, but still holding me. "Yep, you better believe I ain't doing nothin' for you again!"

Grinning, I look up at Daryl. "Good, because I know how to take care of myself!"

I suddenly realize that Daryl's still holding me close, not in a headlock anymore, but still close. I try not to think about how I can feel his heart pounding through his chest, so close to me. I try not to think about how strong and solid his arms feel around me. Looking up at Daryl, I try not to think at all.

Clearing his throat, Daryl lets go of me and looks away. "Well... good. Let's see how you do with trackin'." Walking back to the table, he starts packing his things.

Not sure what to think, I start packing my stuff up too. The silence stretches between us as we pack, not quite looking at each other, but not quite avoiding each other either. After checking that bag is on securely, I speak up. "So while I was out this morning, checking the perimeter, I saw some signs of traffic. I don't think it's from us, since it looks as though at least two people passed by and you were uh, carrying me yesterday." I don't know why I'm blushing so much. I never used to. I was never one of those girls who got all caught up in fantasies of boys and dates and dresses, who doodled hearts and names in her notebook. Full of hope and faith, yes, but never about frivolous things such as boys. Giving myself a quick shake, I conclude, "So I think we should start there."

Daryl nods. "Sounds good. Lead the way."

Gathering our stuff and making one last quick check on the inside of the house, I lead us out the door and on our way. Mentally, I say a quick goodbye to the house, briefly regretting that we can't stay longer. Passing by Mica and Lizzie again, I say one last prayer for them, knowing we probably won't ever be back.


	8. Chapter 8

[**Author's Note**: Hey guys! Sorry for the brief delay and shorter chapter! Life around here is getting pretty crazy and will likely stay that way til the end of the year now. I'll try my best to continue with regular weekly updates, but I apologize if that's not always the case. Be patient! I haven't forgotten about you guys and Beth and Daryl! I do have an entire story arc and end in mind!]

"So I noticed something going on here, looking like footsteps." I say, pointing to the ground, at the subtle differences in the way the grass was lying. "It looks like more than one person, but probably not more than maybe three?" I turn to Daryl for confirmation.

Daryl nods approvingly. "Alright, alright," he says. "Not bad." He grins. "Pretty soon you won't be needin' me at all to find yer sister and everyone. Killin' walkers… trackin' people… makin' breakfast…"

"You know," I say wryly. "I use you for more than just your tracking and people skills."

Daryl raises an eyebrow at me suggestively. "Oh? Is that so? I weren't aware I had any _people skills_."

"You know what I mean! The walkers!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just teasin' ya." he says good-naturedly. "Although, I dunno if I should be more offended that yer apparently usin' me or that yer ain't usin me right way." he adds with a wink.

Oh god! That's the last time I ever do something nice for Daryl, I decide. He is in way too good of a mood and I am blushing way too easily. "Well," I say stoically, "maybe you're right. Maybe I don't need you after all. Maybe I _can_ do all this tracking by myself. So maybe you shouldn't tease me so much, or else I might just cut you loose!" I try to look threatening, but the smile on my face betrays me.

"Ain't that right?" he says. "That why you be leadin' us more and more off path as we're going?" With a smirk, he looks pointedly at the ground. I follow his gaze and realize that while we're still headed in the right general direction, we are slowly veering more and more too far right of the trail. I also realize that while I've been keeping my eyes on the ground looking for signs of disturbance and clues that someone's been by recently, I've neglected to look up and take in the rest of our surroundings. I'm lucky I've got Daryl to watch my back, because although I definitely would've noticed walkers - and there are in fact none nearby so far - I've failed to look for traces and tracks among the trees and branches. While following footsteps on the ground is a big part of tracking, I know that people often leave clues on branches and bushes as they walk by or through them, especially when in a hurry or distressed. Something Daryl is always quick to point out.

"Okay," I say. "Guess I'm not entirely through with you yet!"

Suddenly Daryl raises his hand in a silent warning. I freeze and look around. I can't see anything unusual. We've been walking almost an hour at this point, making good steady progress. I can't figure out where we're headed, or where the tracks might be leading to, but we're still surrounded by trees on all sides. However, the trees are starting to be more spread out, suggesting the idea that we're leaving the woods and headed more towards civilization. Maybe more homes or a town.

I look at Daryl and see that he's still standing completely motionless. He too is looking around. I catch his eye and mouth "What?" at him. He just shakes his head at me and continues looking around. He then points to his ear and then gestures around us. He's clearly heard something that I haven't. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, willing my heart to stop beating so fast, as I try to extend my hearing.

Then I hear it. The faint moaning of walkers. I open my eyes and look around, confused. I can't see any walkers, but it clearly sounds like more than just a few. It also doesn't sound like they're getting any closer or further away. I look at Daryl quizzically, and he motions at me to follow him, his crossbow out in front of him, ready to shoot on sight.

Daryl starts heading right, deeper into the woods. Moving cautiously, his eyes never stop tracking as they sweep back and forth, looking for something unusual. I follow behind him, take care not to create any excessive noise or to make tracks of my own. I have my knife ready in my right hand. As we continue forward, I notice the sound of the walkers getting closer, but still see no actual sign of them.

As we move round a copse of trees, I see Daryl suddenly stop and hear him say "Oh shit." as he lowers his crossbow. Approaching, I move around Daryl and see what has him stunned.

In the middle of a small clearing in the trees lies a pit of walkers. It's similar to the one I nearly stumbled into before, only far larger. The pit is only a few feet deep and a few feet wide, but it is overflowing with an abundance of walkers. Some of the walkers have been there so long, that roots from the surrounding trees have started to grow through them and around them. It's a tangle of moaning heads and reaching limbs that doesn't seem to end.

"Why would someone be doing this?" I ask.

"Dunno." Daryl replies shortly.

"I mean, it's a good idea." I continue. "I'm guessing the noise attracts other walkers in the area, which lead them to the pit, and then they fall and get stuck. Less walkers running around unchecked, and it doesn't even involve having to actively go after them. The walkers pretty much take care of themselves!"

Daryl just grunts in response. I turn my attention away from the pit to look at him. He's staring at the pit with an intense look of concentration on his face. I can almost see the gears in his brain working. "What's wrong?"

"Look at them walkers," he replies. "What'd ya notice?"

I look back at the pit, and try to see it with new eyes. Taking my time, I look from walker to walker, trying to see what it is that Daryl sees. Daryl, having the eyes and instincts of a tracker and a hunter, obviously sees details that escape me. I notice that the walkers are of all ages and races, that they range from completely decimated to relatively intact, from older to newer. Looking around the pit, I see lots of tracks, which isn't too surprising considering how many walkers are in the pit. However, as I look more closely, I notice-

"A struggle. There's signs of a struggle. These aren't just shuffling feet from walkers," I say, looking back at Daryl. "Someone, multiple someones, have dug their heels in, trying to get away from the pit."

Daryl grunts in assent. "Yeah," he pauses, "Dunno 'bout you, but I ain't seen many walkers with backpacks and shit with them, you know?"

Looking once more at the walkers in the pit, I notice what Daryl is saying. Sure enough, a fair amount of the walkers are wearing backpacks or carrying other supplies. "So…" I start, "not all of these were walkers. Some of them were innocent people who just wandered in!"

"Not unlike what almost happened to you!" Daryl growls, spitting on the ground, venom in his eyes.

With this new revelation, I look back on the pit, dread filling my stomach. Daryl's right. One of these walkers could've been me, could've been any of us. One wrong step, as I learned, and I could've easily been in a pit just like this.

"But what's the point? Are these people just the result of poor planning and oversight?" I ask. "Or is there something more going on?"

Daryl shrugs, turning away from the pit. "Don't matter right now, does it?"

"I think it does if it means there's another danger out there besides just the walkers!"

Daryl turns to me sharply. "'nother danger like The Governor? Wake up Beth! There was always other dangers out there! Dangers like what killed them two little girls back at that house! That weren't the work of no walkers!"

Daryl's outburst doesn't surprise me. What does surprise me is the look I see when we lock eyes. So much raw emotion: Daryl rarely looks this vulnerable. Before I can say anything, he quickly turns away and starts walking briskly back the way we came.

"Come on," he says gruffly. "The trail's gettin' cold. Forget 'bout that pit. Can't save the whole goddamn world."

As I rush to catch up to him, I hear him mutter to himself, "Jus' hope I can save you."


	9. Chapter 9

[**Author's Note: **Woot! Super-long chapter! And I'm posting it early because I've got a business trip and won't be back until November. Enjoy!]

We continue walking most of the day, making good progress as we go. The walkers don't pose too much trouble, however we do find a few more of the walker pits. Both Daryl and I take precautions to avoid them as much as possible.

"I know it's a risk," I say, as we pass by the fourth pit that day, "but should we maybe try to grab some of the backpacks from them? I mean, if people took the time to pack them and carry them around with them, they're probably full of useful things right?"

Daryl stops and looks pensive. As we've continued, the longer we've walked, the more Daryl has had to take over tracking. I'm getting better, but Daryl still picks up many signs that I miss, which is crucial the longer it's been since someone has been by. "No," he finally replies.

"Why not?" I counter. "It could be awhile before we come across another house or cabin. If I've learned anything from you it's that we need to take the advantage whenever we can, gather supplies as we go. Anything for survival." I spot a long branch that has broken off a tree and fallen on the ground. "Look! We could use this branch to try to hook one of the backpacks..." As I reach my arm out to grab it, Daryl roughly grabs me and pulls me back, away from the pit.

"I said no!" Daryl shouts, his voice echoing the quiet woods.

Everything stops for a moment; even the walkers cease their moaning for a second. As the silence continues, I look down at my arm where Daryl is still holding me. "Daryl," I say in a hushed tone. "You're hurting me."

Daryl follows my gaze down to my arm, where he can see the indentations being made by his fingers, the way my skin is slowly turning white from his grip. A brief flash of horror passes across his face as he quickly lets go of me as if burned. Running his fingers through his hair, he takes a step back from me, but keeps himself positioned between me and the pit. "I-I-I'm sorry." he stutters, not quite looking at me.

"Hey," I say, reaching out for him. "It's okay." I smile at him and hold out my arm, showing him that there's no harm done.

"No, 's not." he says gruffly, ducking out of my reach and rushing past me. "Let's just go."

I'm taken aback, but decide not to push it. With one last look at the pit, I adjust my backpack and hurry after Daryl.

We walk in silence after that. Well, we often walk in silence, Daryl more so than me, but even this time I sense that something's different, that I should just stay quiet and not try to lighten the mood with mindless chatter. We continue on, Daryl pushing us at a hurried pace. After what seems like forever, I stop him.

"Daryl, slow down." I say. "Let's just, take a breather. A 5 minute break. We've still got lots of those pecans left!" I smile and sit down on a log, pulling off my backpack. I dig around until I find the pecans, and offer Daryl a handful.

Daryl just grunts at me and continues to pace around, looking restless and unsettled. Chewing around a mouthful, I try again. "Come on, you gotta keep up your strength! We've been walking all day. 5 minutes of rest won't kill you." At the word 'kill', I notice Daryl flinch slightly. "Daryl, what's wrong?"

"Nothin'. I just don't want nothing to do with them pits 's all." he responds. "Somethin' ain't right."

"Yeah, I know," I say. "I get that. But if there's something in those pits that could help us... shouldn't we at least consider the idea of trying to get to them? Wouldn't it be worth the risk?"

"Nothin's worth the risk!" Daryl snarls, turning back towards me, looking me in the eye. "There were people in them pits. You were nearly in them! We've lost the prison, we've lost Carol, we've lost Judith, we've lost everyone!" Grabbing me roughly, he continues, "I ain't 'bout to lose you too!"

As if realizing that he's holding me too tightly again, he abruptly lets me go and moves to walk away. Without thinking, I reach out and grab him, pulling him close, hugging him about the waist. "You won't lose me." I say, my voice muffled in his chest. "I'm right here."

I feel his arms come around me hesistantly, as he lowers his head to rest on mine. We stand like that for a few moments, holding each other, saying nothing. Daryl's trembling slightly, but I stay strong for him. "We're survivors, you and I." I finally say. "Together, we've got this."

Daryl makes a choking sound. "Together," he murmurs into my hair. I flush slightly, but hold him tighter.

When he finally lets me go, I feel cold without him. Without looking at me, he grabs my backpack and thrusts it at me. "Thanks" he mumbles.

Without another word, we continue on our way. We pass by a few smaller pits of walkers, as well as a few isolated stragglers, as the sun goes from directly overhead and brutal, to dipping slightly in the sky. I let the silence stretch between us as we follow the trail, hoping to catch up with whoever was ahead of us at that cottage. While not entirely comfortable, at least this silence isn't laden with tension like it was earlier in the day. Although still guarded, I can see him slowly relaxing back into himself, as he looks out for signs on where we should be headed next.

It's approaching late afternoon when Daryl finally speaks again. "You're right."

Lost in my own thoughts and taken aback by the sudden break in silence, I'm confused. "I'm right?"

Daryl chuckles. "Don't sound so surprised. I'm sure you been right before. I 'spect you probably been right most your life."

I laugh. "No! It's not that. It's just... I'm right about what?"

"'Bout them pits. 'Bout needin' to use them for resources and what not." Turning serious again for a moment, he continues, "But we need to be smart 'bout it."

"Oh, well, here I was just planning on throwing myself in with wild abandon!" I joke.

For a moment, I think Daryl's gonna snap at me, and I worry that maybe I shouldn't have made the joke so soon. But then he shakes his head and replies, "I said smart, not smart-ass!" he grins.

"Well, if I'm smart, then logic would follow that my ass would be smart as well!" I quip.

"We," Daryl closes his eyes as if exercising great restraint, "are not discussing your ass."

Disappointment briefly flashes through my mind before I shake it off. "No, of course not. Why would anyone discuss my ass?" I mumble, moodily. Daryl looks at me strangely and I quickly continue. "Okay! Well, the next pit we see, if there's anything useful, we'll discuss strategies then!"

As the number of pits we'd been passing had been steadily increasing as we went further along into the woods, I didn't doubt that we'd get our chance sooner rather than later. Sure enough, a couple of hours and a couple of smaller pits later, I see something promising.

"Check it out!" I say in a hushed tone, not wanting to disturb the walkers in the pit.

Daryl looks to where I'm pointing. It's one of the larger pits we've seen so far, but that's not what got my attention. About a couple of feet in, there's a walker wearing a military-like canvas backpack. Furthermore, a big red cross is sewn into it, clearly visible.

"Even if it's not military grade, we could use more medical and first-aid supplies!" I whisper excitedly. "And if it is military grade, well, then even better!" I grin.

Daryl nods slowly. "Alright, but I'm getting it."

I start to protest when Daryl continues. "No, it makes sense. I've got the longer reach. Besides," he says wryly, "you any good at climbing trees?" pointing to a tree that has a low hanging branch directly over the pit.

Unfortunately for him, I am good at climbing trees. However, I can see that he's not going to budge on the matter. Looking around at the pit and the area, I come up with an idea. "Alright, it's all yours." I bow graciously, gesturing towards the tree.

Daryl pauses a moment to eye me suspiciously before shedding his things and shinnying up the tree. I wait for him to get up the trunk, and firmly on the branch, before I put my idea into motion. Going to the opposite side of the pit from where Daryl is approaching, I start making noise, attracting the attention of the walkers. Daryl is not amused.

"Beth!" he hisses angrily. "The fuck you think you're doin'?"

"Creating a distraction!" I reply gleefully. "You didn't think I was gonna let you take all the risk and just stand here not helping, did you?" Daryl makes a move to start climbing down the tree again. "Oh no you don't!" I call out. "Come on, Daryl. I'm perfectly safe! They're stuck in the pit, I'm nowhere near it... and I have both my knife and your crossbow!"

Daryl stops where he is and glares at me. "If anything happens..."

"To your crossbow? Yeah, I know, you'll kill me!" I smile.

Daryl closes his eyes with a pained expression on his face. Opening his eyes again, he looks at me and simply says, "be careful," before shaking his head and continuing up and across the branch.

It doesn't take much to keep the walkers distracted, so really I am in no danger. As I continue calling out to them, I keep looking up to see how Daryl is doing. He's lying on the branch, directly over the walker with the backpack. He reaches out with a stick, trying to coax the straps off the rotted arms and shoulders. He gets one strap loose, then the other. Now it's just a matter of snagging the backpack and bringing it into our possession. In the shuffle, the backpack gets knocked a little further in towards the middle of the pit. Daryl inches forward on his branch, reaching out for the backpack. He's so close...

CRACK!

It's as if everything is moving very slowly and very fast, all at the same time. I look up at the sound and see the branch that holds Daryl snapping under his weight. I lock eyes with him just in time to see the look of horror flash on his face, as he falls down towards the writhing mass of walkers.

"No!" I scream, as Daryl disappears in a sea of rotted, desiccated arms.


	10. Chapter 10

Only he doesn't.

The scream tears from my throat before I have the chance to process what I'm seeing. Out of nowhere it seems, a large figure comes barrelling at Daryl, tackling him, pushing him to safety. Well, near safety. As Daryl and the stranger grapple to untangle themselves, I run over to the side of the pit where they've landed. Using Daryl's crossbow, I start killing the walkers reaching out for them, driving them further away. All the while, Daryl and the stranger fight to get away from the edge of the pit.

"Gerroff!" Daryl snarls, fighting not just the walkers, but the stranger who saved his life.

"Daryl!" I call out, reaching for him, as he struggles to shrug me off as well. "Calm down! It's okay!" I grab him by the shoulders and face him to me. "It's okay!" I repeat.

Daryl just looks from me, to the pit, to the stranger, and back to me. He's breathing heavily as he takes in his surroundings and slowly it starts to register on him that he's no longer in dire danger. Daryl grabs me and pulls me in close for a hug, his breathing too ragged for words.

"No need to thank me!" the stranger jokes. "I was just in the neighbourhood, going for a friendly stroll. It's all good! Yep, no problems here!" He chuckles and just dusts himself off. He reaches a hand out to help Daryl up. "The name's Hutch!"

Daryl glares at the hand for a moment before nodding and grabbing on. "Thanks," he says, before turning back to help me.

As Daryl helps me back to my feet, I stop to take my first good look at the stranger, Hutch. He's an older gentleman, with greying hair, but somehow still conveys an air of youthfulness and vitality. He's about Daryl's height, but the way he holds himself makes him seem larger. He carries himself with a confidence not seen by many nowadays. I don't know much, but I'd say he was ex-military or law-enforcement. He's in surprisingly good shape considering his age and our circumstances.

"Yep, you've got to be careful around these parts." Hutch says. "Got a lot of them pits around here."

"Yeah? You don't say." Daryl replies.

"Yep." Hutch looks around, then back at us. "Just you two?"

"Yes," I start to say, before I'm quickly cut off by Daryl.

"Nah, we've gots people waitin' for us back home."

"Oh? And where's that?" Hutch asks.

"I ain't tellin' you!" Daryl snarls. I quickly approach Daryl, and put a hand on his arm, signaling him to back down. This man saved Daryl's life!

Hutch just laughs. "It's all cool, I don't blame you. Lot of sketchy people out there. Look, it's almost dark, and there's lots of space and not many people where I'm from, so if you want to bunk with us for the night, you're more than welcome. We're always happy for newcomers. But if not, I understand."

I look at Daryl and cock my head. Newcomers? Maybe some people from the prison have crossed paths with Hutch, and are with him now. Maybe even the people we've been trying to track!

Hutch sees me and Daryl looking at each other. "I've got to take a leak, so I'll just be over here behind these trees. If y'all want to talk or whatever." And with that, Hutch leaves us alone.

"What do you think Daryl?" I ask. "Think anyone from the prison might be there?"

"I dunno," he replies, "But I don't like this."

"You don't trust Hutch?" I say.

"Do you?" Daryl retorts.

I stop and think of what I know. There are a lot of bad people out there, but there are still a lot of good. "He saved your life. He could've just let you fall into the pit, but he didn't. It was far riskier for him to attempt to save you than to not." Daryl grunts in agreement, but doesn't seem convinced. I want to believe the best in people, but after the Governor, I can see Daryl's point. Still, I'm not ready to give up. "He might have seen our people! The very people we're trying to find could be with him! And if his set-up is as good as he says it is, we could use the resources. There's safety in numbers!"

"There's safety in you!" Daryls hisses at me. "I'm safe, you're safe… ain't that good enough? Why do you need more?" Daryl almost sounds rejected.

"I don't. I just… don't you want to find the others? This could be our best chance!"

"Our best chance at gettin' killed!"

"Why do you have to be so cynical? Why can't you just believe that there are other people out there like us?"

"There ain't no one like you!" The silence between us is almost palpable. "I just mean, I can't have you riskin' your life on a whim. We should stick with what we know. Not everyone is kind like you."

Stick with what we know… "We know tracking." I say slowly, an idea starting to form. "What if we track Hutch? Follow him back to his place? Watch him from a distance and see what's going on?"

Daryl contemplates what I've said. "And what about them tracks from the cottage?"

I shrug. "What about them?"

"The trail will be long gone if we take this detour."

I sigh. "The trail's already long gone for me. I haven't been able to see anything for the past hour. I've just been following you."

Daryl smiles. "Aha, so you ain't a master yet? Still just a young grasshopper?"

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in, why don't you?" But I'm smiling. "If you've still got the trail, then it's your call."

"Yeah, I've still got it." he says, "But barely. Let's see where it heads and if we lose it, then we can go followin' ol' Hutch here."

"Deal!" I say.

At that moment, Hutch came back. "So kids, what's it gonna be?"

I look at Daryl and cock an eyebrow. Kids? Ha! I would've never thought of Daryl as a kid.

"No thanks," Daryl replies. "'twas nice of you to invite us, but we've gotta get goin'."

Hutch nods. "Alright, I understand. You just be careful out there. It's getting dark, and there are plenty more pits than just the one."

"Duly noted." Daryl says.

"Bye!" I call out cheerfully, waving at Hutch's retreating back. Hutch just waves without turning around. I watch as he retreats into the woods, his form growing smaller and smaller, til I can't see it anymore. "Alright then," I say, turning towards Daryl. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, we _shall_." he replies mockingly.

Picking up our things, we continue on our way. Just before we leave, I turn back towards the pit, where I can still see the army bag. It lies there alone, lost in the sea of walkers. The walkers continue to writhe, oblivious of the bag or any disturbance that had happened earlier. I stand there a moment, looking at the bag, and it sinks in how much I've lost and how close I came to losing what I have left.

Catching up with Daryl, who has already started walking away, I say, "wait".

Daryl stops and turns towards me. "What? You ain't change your mind 'bout something, have you?"

Without thinking, I reach forward and hug Daryl. "I'm so sorry." And at that, I start sobbing.

"Hey, hey," Daryl says, holding me close and patting my head. "What's all this nonsense 'bout?"

"You almost died!" I shout, stepping back to smack him on the chest. "Or did you forget about that?"

Daryl takes a sharp breath in. "No," he whispers. "I hadn't even thought about that."

"Well I did! Just now! And it would've been all my fault!" Now that I've started, I can't stop crying.

Daryl just grabs me and pulls me back towards him. "'s alright." he murmurs. "Better me than you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I cry.

"Shh, shh." is all I get in return.

"No Daryl, it's not alright. I-I-I couldn't live without you!"

Daryl smiles. "Yeah, you could. You're strong. Don't you ever forget that."

I just cling to him harder. "Yeah, but I wouldn't want to!"

And through my sobs, I swear I hear Daryl murmur into my hair, "Me neither."

[**Author's Note:** Woot! I forgot that November was NaNoWriMo, so I'll be busy trying to do that. I don't think it'll disrupt this story too much though!]


	11. Chapter 11

We continue following the trail we had started on that morning. After about an hour, we decide to stop for a break to eat some dinner. "The trail from the cottage startin' to run cold." Daryl says, skinning a small rabbit he's caught while I tend to the small fire. "Far's I can tell, they been headed in this direction, but I can't tell much more than that."

"Alright." I say. "So does that mean should head back and try to find Hutch's trail? See if we can track down where his camp may be?"

Daryl smiles. "Well, while I was findin' Peter here, I also found Hutch's trail. Seems he's been headed in the same direction as we've been. Also seems like he was in a bit o' a hurry."

The idea that Hutch was travelling parallel to us strikes me as odd, but not as odd as something else. "Peter?" I ask Daryl, cocking my eyebrow up at him.

"Yeah, like in them kid's books." I continue to stare at Daryl in amusement and disbelief. "What? I read!" A few seconds pass before Daryl concedes, "Alright, alright, I heard Carol readin' to the kids back at the prison."

"Ha! I knew it!"

Daryl grumbles. "Whatever. I ain't had time to read. Besides, Carol did done all these diff'rnt voices for all them animals…" Daryl trails off and then looks sheepish. "It was nice." he adds lamely. He looks nostalgic for a moment, sadness flitting across his face.

For a split second, my heart twists in a way that is unrelated to sadness. It's a feeling I can't quite grasp, and it's gone before I have the chance to think more on it. "I miss Carol too." I say. "And Maggie. And Glenn. And everyone else."

Daryl grunts, and continues tending to the fire and the now-cooking rabbit. A moment passes in silent. I want to say something, but nothing seems appropriate. Daryl then hands me a piece of the rabbit that's finished cooking. "But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper!" I say, putting on British accent.

Daryl looks at me blankly. "It's from "The Tale of Peter Rabbit"...?" I say meekly. "Nevermind!" I quickly add, looking to my piece of rabbit in embarrassment. I feel a slight flush fill my face, and I rush to eat, hoping to detract from the situation.

Daryl smiles. "I'm just fuckin' with ya." he says, laughing. "Yeah, I recognized them bunny names. Kids books are weird."

I throw the twig my piece of rabbit had been skewered on at Daryl. "You suck!" I say, laughing too.

"I suck?" Daryl repeats, in a mock-wounded voice, clutching his heart. "Such harsh words coming from a nice girl like you!"

"Whatever Daryl." I say. "You'd be teasing me just as badly if I really had said something harsh. I lose either way."

"Yep!" Daryl says smiling. "You're just too easy to fuck around with!"

"I didn't realize I was so fuckable!" I retort, smacking him on the arm.

Daryl just looks at me and there's a beat of silence as it dawns on me exactly what I've said. "I-I-I didn't mean it that way!" I quickly add, looking away again. "I meant it in a messing around way!" Shit, what is wrong with me? Thank god it's too dark for Daryl to see how badly I'm blushing. "I meant teasing! I know you wouldn't- I mean, I know no one would- not with me or whatever!" I babbling and I can't seem to stop. Daryl's just staring at me. Why is he staring at me? I just want him to say something. Anything. Or maybe not. Is it too late for me to just-?

"I should hope not." Daryl says quietly, almost as if talking to his food or himself.

"What?"

Daryl gets up and starts poking at the fire again, shuffling things around so that it doesn't die but doesn't grow too big either. He doesn't say anything for a moment. "You ain't the kind of girl guys should be messin' around with."

Oh. "Oh, yeah, no, of course. I mean, Zach wanted to, but I don't think it was so much about me as it was that he was a teenage boy. I know I'm not exactly, you know?" I finish lamely, gesturing to my skinny, shapeless body. "But like, whatever. I don't care about that. I never did. I had more important things on my mind. Still do." I laugh. "I mean, we gotta survive, right?"

Daryl grunts in assent. "You deserve better than that." he continues quietly, almost speaking to the fire. "You ain't some girl to be fucked. You should be loved." he trails off.

I'm taken aback. "I thought you didn't believe in love."

"Never said that." Daryl replies. "'sides, you do. 's all that matters." Daryl looks up at the darkening sky. "Whatever. 's gettin' late." he says, abruptly changing the subject.

"Yeah." I say. "So what's the plan for tonight? Find Hutch's camp?"

"I don't reckon it be a good idea to start tailin' him right away." Daryl says. "He might be on alert, and it's gettin' too dark to see his trail anyway."

I agree. "So I guess we better set up camp here?"

Daryl shrugs. "Might as well. Seems quiet, I ain't seen no walkers in a bit. I'll set up a perimeter if you wanna set up a sleepin' space." And with that, Daryl gets up to leave.

As I sweep an area of the forest floor clean, I think back on what Daryl said. About how he never said he didn't believe in love. Knowing that gives me hope. I worry about Daryl. I always knew that he hadn't had the easiest life, but I assumed he must have had love at some point. After finding out that he hadn't… I know he said not to pity him, but it's hard. I've known love all my life. Dad, Maggie… I had a whole family to love and who loved me back. And I've seen how Maggie and Glenn look at each other. I know what all kinds of love looks like. I want Daryl to know that too. Knowing that he still believes in the concept of love gives me hope that maybe he does see it in others, that maybe one day he'll see it for himself.

Daryl comes back. "Looks good." he says. "You all set?"

"Yeah, I think we'll be good for the evening." I reply. "We set out at first light?"

"Best time fer trackin'" Daryl says with a smile.

Something Daryl said earlier comes back to me. "Don't you think it's weird that Hutch's trail runs parallel to where the other trail has been going?"

Daryl shrugs. "Dunno. I 'spect there ain't many places to go 'round here. I mean, you see it with animals all the time: they stick to familiar patterns, paths already tread. People is just bigger animals."

I make a face. "Well, I'd like to think we're more than just simply bigger animals." I think for a second. "Well, some of at least least. You, I still wonder about." I concede, smiling.

"Ohh, it hurts!" Daryl replies. "But maybe you ain't wrong." he adds with a growl. "You be careful not to let your guard down. There be no tellin' what I may do!" he mock lunges at me.

"I'm so scared!" I laugh, as I set up a sleeping bag. "So scared, I don't know how I'll ever sleep!"

"Good!" Daryl says, grabbing the sleeping bag from me. "You can take first watch then!"

"Maybe I'll just let the walkers eat you!" I say, jokingly. Then, remembering what happened earlier in the evening, I quickly say, "I didn't mean that."

"I know." Daryl says. "Don' worry. I know you'll protect me." He climbs into the sleeping bag, and rolls over, away from me and the fire. "I feel safe with you." he mumbles quietly.

It's the first time I've ever heard someone say that about me. Normally people think they need to take care of me. I know I'm stronger than people think, and Daryl's reminded me of that on occasion, but this was the first time I've ever heard someone say that they felt safe with me, that they actively trusted me with their lives. Daryl's faith in me and my abilities is more than I ever thought possible.

It's in this moment that I realize what the feeling I felt earlier when Daryl was talking about Carol was. Jealousy. I hadn't realized how much I had come to rely on Daryl and admire him. How much his word and opinion of me mattered. I've always cared about him, the way I've cared about everyone from our group. Without him, I know I wouldn't have survived.

But never had I ever thought that I would come to love him.

Never had I ever thought I would fall in love with him.


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning I woke up, and found Daryl already packing things up. Nothing was said about last night. Not that there was anything to say mind you. I'm pretty sure Daryl was half-asleep when he said that about me, and I definitely was not about to bring it up. Sighing, I suppressed my feelings for him. I knew there was no point in dwelling on them. There was no way Daryl would ever feel that way towards me. Bringing it up would only embarrass myself and make things awkward. Survival was more important. As long as Daryl was alive and I had him by my side, I'd be fine.

"So," I said, getting up and walking over to Daryl. "What's the plan for today?"

Daryl looked at me like I was crazy. "I thought we was trackin' Hutch to see where he camps and shit?"

Right. So much for focusing on the task at hand. I shook my head. "Right, sorry, guess I'm still half-asleep."

Daryl grunted. "Ain't no time for that. Don't 'spect me to go savin' yer ass cuz you're sleepin' 'stead of watchin' where yer goin'." he said with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah." I said, smiling back. "Even half-asleep, I'm more than a match for walkers!"

Daryl handed me a cup of water and some pecans from the cottage. "Eat up. I wanna set out soon."

"Yes sir!" I said in a mocking tone, saluting him.

"Don't you take that tone with me young lady!" Daryl said back jokingly. "I might hafta teach you some respect!" he said with a wink.

I almost choke on my water. A faint flush starts to creep up my neck, as I think of what Daryl might do. Ugh! Shaking my head again, I go excuse myself and hide behind a tree.

I have to get a grip on myself! This kind of behaviour was going to get us killed. Taking time to relieve myself and to gather my wits, I start heading back to Daryl. I am not some simpering little girl with a crush. I am a fighter and I can kill walkers. I have to find Maggie and the others.

Filled with resolve, I rejoin Daryl. Now everything is packed up and ready to go. Grabbing my bag, I take the lead. "So, if I remember correctly, Hutch headed off in this direction yesterday, meaning we should be able to pick up the trail shortly."

Daryl laughs. "Whoa there. Look who's an eager beaver."

I shrug. "I just want to get moving. The sooner we find his camp, the sooner we can determine if any of our people are there, and what we want to do next."

Daryl nods. "Alright, fair 'nuff. Lead the way!" Grabbing his stuff, he followed me out into the forest.

For the next little while, neither of us talk. I'm focusing so hard on the task at hand, that I can't bring myself to say anything. Besides, I'm worried I'll just say something embarrassing. It's funny, how nothing has actually changed since yesterday, yet now that I'm conscious of my feelings, everything seems different.

Daryl seems content to work in silence. I notice that my lack of chatter has attracted more squirrels our way. Daryl deftly shoots them with his crossbow and adds them to his pouch. Dinner will be pretty awesome tonight, and we'll probably have enough squirrel left over for breakfast tomorrow. Although, now that I think of it…

"When do you think we'll find Hutch's camp?" I ask. I've been focusing so hard on finding the trail, following it, and keeping us on it, that I've lost track of Daryl and what he's been doing. At my words, I hear him swear and I look around wildly for him. He's several feet to my right right, looking disappointed but very much alive. "What? What happened?"

"Aw, 's nothin'." he mutters, re-adjusting his backpack.

"No, seriously, what happened?" I ask again.

Daryl smiles sheepishly. "I was just 'bout to get Flopsy and Mopsy for dinner. But someone," at this he glares at me, "scared them away."

"Oh," I say lamely. "Sorry Daryl."

"'s no worries." he replies. "But if we's short on food tonight, it's you we're eatin'!"

"Ew," I say, wrinkling my nose up at Daryl. "I'm not planning on putting human flesh in my mouth, thank you very much!"

Daryl grins. "I'm sure one day you'll find someone who'll change yer mind."

Oh. Wow. I'm starting to think I liked Daryl better when he was surly and silent, when he was less comfortable around me. Luckily he's turned away and moved on, presumably after another small furry creature. Shaking off my nerves, this time I check to see if he's hot in pursuit of something, before I open my mouth. He's not. He's found another pit of walkers.

"Another one?" I ask, which I realize belatedly is pretty obvious.

"Yep." Daryl says shortly. "First one we seen today."

I think about that. It's true. While we came across many yesterday, there have been fewer today. "How big would say this one is?" I ask.

Daryl looks at it contemplatively, cocking his head to the side as he assesses it. "Ain't as wide as most of the ones we saw yesterday, but looks to be deeper."

I look at it and assess it myself. It's a couple of feet wide, but deeper than any of the ones I saw before. "Why do you think it's so deep? What do you think it means?"

Daryl shrugs. "Hell if I know." He spits at it. "Might be good, might be bad. Prolly best to avoid 'em."

I nod, and follow Daryl back to the trail. Something about them bother me though. Why are there fewer around here than there were before? Who has been digging them? And for what purpose?

continuing on, I ask Daryl my initial question again. "How much further do you think Hutch's camp is?"

"He said it weren't more than an hour's walk away, though he could be lyin'. I aint seen no walkers lately though, have you?" I shake my head no. "I 'spect not. I'mma guessin' him and his folks been keepin' the area clean. I'm seein' less animal tracks too, so that means they've either been hunted or scared. Either way, means people."

"So we should be coming up on them soon?" I ask.

"Yep." replies Daryl.

I nod. "I think you should take over the tracking." I say, thinking about it. "You're better at it than I am, and I don't think we should walk right into their camp. If I keep tracking, I'll just lead us straight there. You'll be able to take note of the trail ahead of me, and lead us around it, while still keeping us on the right path. We should probably circle around, watch them from the direction opposite from where we came. It's what they'd least expect right?" I look up at Daryl for confirmation. "If they're expecting us at all, they'll be expecting us to come from where Hutch found us."

Daryl grins. "Well lookatchu, thinkin' all smart-like and puttin' that pretty little head of yours to good use." I smile back. "Looks like you can be taught."

"Well, my teacher wasn't too shabby." I replied with a smile.

"Ooooh, look who's bein' a lil ass-kisser?" Daryl says, laughing. Suddenly his smile vanishes.

"What's wrong?" I ask, looking concerned.

Daryl shakes his head. "Ain't nothin'" he says, walking away. "C'mon, let's get going."

Without waiting to see if I follow, Daryl walks off. Confused, I quickly go to catch up with him. "Daryl, what's wrong?" I ask again.

He doesn't slow down and he doesn't answer. A few more minutes pass in silence. Finally, I decide I can't take it anymore. I reach out and grab Daryl's arm to stop him. He stops, but still doesn't turn towards me. "Daryl," I say gently. "What's wrong?"

Daryl shrugs his arm out of my reach. "I'm thinkin' of Lil Ass-Kicker." he says gruffly.

"...Judith?" I ask. It's then that I realize I hadn't thought of her this whole time. She's just a little baby. Everyone else, even Mika and Lizzie, could have gotten out on their own; the question is only how long they can survive with or without others. Judith on the other hand needs someone to carry her, needs someone to take care of her. Did anyone think to take her? "I-I-I'm sure she's fine." I stammer out. Daryl just shrugs; he's not convinced. "Seriously," I say, taking his arm again. "I know she's fine. There's no way she was left behind." I say with conviction.

"We left without her." Daryl mumbled.

"That was because we were nowhere near the bus!" I say, insistently. The truth is, I have no idea what happened to Judith, to anyone. But I can't give up hope. And I won't let Daryl think the worse. "She probably got out with a whole bunch of people on the bus. They're probably all taking turns taking care of her. I bet if we were there, we'd barely even get to see her, everyone would be so busy clamouring to be with her." I know I'm rambling, but I need to make Daryl believe.

Daryl nods. I can't tell if he believes me, but I feel some of the tension leave his arm. "Are we getting close to the camp?" I ask, trying to change the topic.

"Yeah," Daryl says gruffly. "We've been near it for a while now. Been leadin' us past it now."

"Great," I say, smiling. "No surprises for us then."

Daryl looks up at the sky. "C'mon, we gotta get goin' if we wants to find their camp and watch them before it gets dark."

We continue walking. I'm not sure how Daryl calculates our path, making sure that we're going around Hutch's camp without being seen. All I know is that there have been suspiciously no walkers in a while, and we keep coming across more of those pits. We steer clear of them when we can. It's getting darker and we don't want to risk falling in.

Finally, Daryl stops us. Leaning in close, he whispers, "Alright, that oughta do it."

Looking around, I don't see anything. "Where's the camp?" I whisper back.

Daryl rolls his eyes. "I ain't stop us right besides them." he says back quietly. "We're still a good 20 minutes walk, but now from the other side."

"So why are we whispering?"

"In case they're watching." he replies.

I feel like an idiot, til a thought occurs to me. "Won't that just look suspicious?"

"Nah," Daryl replies. "Jus' make us look paranoid, in case o' walkers."

I nod. Makes sense. "So what's the plan?" I ask.

Quietly, Daryl maps out on the ground with a stick approximately where we are in conjunction to the camp. "We'll walk around here," he says pointing, "and before we get too close, we'll find a vantage point from which to watch."

"Alright, sounds pretty simple." I say, getting up from the ground, dusting myself off.

Daryl growls. "Ain't nothing simple. If we get caught, if this is a trap, if they ain't friendly… lots could go wrong. From here on, no talkin' 'less it's absolutely necessary."

"Daryl," I say gently, leaning in close to him. "I get it."

He nods and we head out in silence. As we walk, I start seeing more and more signs of other people: lots of tracks in the ground, the faint sound of voices getting closer, the smell of a campfire. Soon, I can see a faint glow up ahead. Daryl taps me on the shoulder, and points to a ridge, where we can be hidden while we approach. Carefully, trying to avoid stepping on twigs and making a sound, we make our way closer and closer. The voices and the laughter get louder.

Finally, we get to the ridge and hide behind a copse of trees. From what we can see, the camp is not that big. Maybe only about a dozen people. I'm confused, because Hutch made it sound like there were many of them. Then again, who's to say what's a lot anymore in this world? As I look from face to face, hoping to see one I recognize, I'm soon disappointed. Not one of them belongs to the group from the prison. I look over at Daryl, and his face looks grim as he realizes it too.

The people are about an even mix of men and women. Most of them seem to be fit, like Hutch, and fairly healthy. There are no children, except for a baby. All in all, they look harmless to me.

I look at Daryl with a question in my eyes. What do we do now? I point down at them and mimic walking with my fingers. Daryl shakes his head at me and brings a finger to his mouth, motioning me to stay silent.

We stay on that ridge for a few minutes longer, watching them, before retreating back the way we came.


	13. Chapter 13

We stay silent as we work our way back to where we started. After about 20 minutes of walking, I start to open my mouth to talk, but Daryl quickly covers my mouth with his hand. I look at him inquisitively, but he merely shakes his head and motions me to continue walking.

We walk for another 10 minutes in silence. Just as I'm about to ask him again what's going on, he see another one of those walker pits. Daryl looks at it grimly and nods. "Jus' as I thought." he muttered.

"What is?" I start to say, in a normal tone, when I'm abruptly met with a death glare from Daryl. I immediately lower my tone. "Daryl, what's going on?" I whisper at him, not entirely sure what we're trying to hide from.

Daryl responds with a cold shoulder and more walking. I don't understand what is happening, but I trust him, and follow for another few minutes in silence. Finally, after a particularly sharp turn in our walking, I grab his arm and turn him to face me. "Daryl, we have now been walking for almost an hour!" I hiss at him. "I thought we were going to join up with Hutch's group, or at the very least watch them. Whatever it is you're thinking, you need to tell me. We're in this together!"

Daryl looks around, listening. Finally, he shrugs and pulls off his backpack. "Good 'nuff." he says gruffly, and starts clearing an area for a fire.

I look around too. I can't see anything, but then again, I don't know what it is I'm supposed to be looking for. "Now will tell me what this is all about?" I ask, trying to keep the edge and whine out of my voice.

Daryl grunts but nods. "I don't trust them." he finally says, settling down next to the small teepee of twigs he's gathered.

"Well that much is obvious." I reply, trying to keep an even tone. "Why not?"

"Jus' don't seem right." was all Daryl said, working on getting the fire started and settled.

I don't say anything. I just stand there over Daryl staring at him, waiting for him to elaborate. Finally, Daryl notices my silence and looks up at me. I cock my eyebrow at him inquisitively, not backing down. Daryl stares me down for a moment, before acquiescing. Acknowledging my victory with a brief, fleeting smirk, he nods towards the ground beside him. Settling in beside him, I say, "Alright, you ready to share?"

Sighing, Daryl takes a deep breath and asks me, "What'd you notice 'bout them?"

I take a moment to think before answering. "They seemed fine. None of our people were there, but they seemed to be okay folk." I think that's a fair assessment, considering we only watched them for maybe 15, 20 minutes, before heading out again.

Daryl nods. "Right. But what did you _see_?" he stresses.

I shrug. "Not that many. A few men, a few women, a baby. No one was injured or seemed distressed." I'm still not sure where Daryl's going with this. "Daryl," I say gently, putting my hand on his arm. "Just tell me what you're thinking." Daryl doesn't respond right away. Instead, we stare at each other for a beat. It's just a split-second, but it's enough for me to wonder what else he's thinking, completely unrelated to the situation at hand. I blink and look away, bringing my hand back to myself.

Finally Daryl answers. "Seems to me they're in mighty fine shape. Too good. What've they been eatin'? We ain't seen no critters in a while. Plus they gone had too much shit. How's the hell that few people get all that shit?"

Damn. I hadn't thought of that. "Well…" I say slowly, not wanting to jump to conclusions. "Maybe they've been there for awhile. If they've been camping at the same spot, they might have accumulated a fair number of supplies while doing runs."

Daryl grunts. "Still don't 'xplain what they's been eatin'. And supply runs where? That cottage we were at just 'bout the only damn place all 'round." Daryl pauses, and then looks right at me. "No, the only way they gettin' stuff is from other people."

"But what other people?" I ask. "Their camp was awfully small." I stop and a thought occurs to me. "You don't think they're going out and attacking other groups, do you?"

Daryl shrugs. "Don't think they have to. Ain't you notice somethin' 'round their camp?" I think for a moment, but then shake my head. "No pits. I think they might be the ones settin' 'em up."

"But why?" I ask, confused. I still haven't decided whether or not those pits were supposed to be a good idea.

"Dunno." Daryl grunts. "I don't trust 'em."

I think about it. Clearly something isn't adding up. But at the same time… "But they had a baby. Whoever they are, whatever they're up to, they can't be all bad, right?" I look to Daryl for confirmation, but he just shrugs. "Look, I just don't think we should write them off yet. It's almost night-time. Why don't we stay here and in the morning, head back out. Watch them for a bit and see what they do?"

Daryl looks contemplative. "Why?" he asks. "To hell with 'em! We don't need 'em!" he says, chucking a twig into the fire.

I put my hand on his arm again. "I know we don't." I say gently. "But there's safety in numbers. And they clearly have some sort of system going on. Maybe we can figure out what it is, learn from them." I shrug. "If anything we could trade in a few supplies, rest up and eat, and be better prepared to find the others." I look up at Daryl. "Either way, I don't think we should give up on them. And I'm not giving up on finding the others. Please? Just one day of observing, see if we find anything useful. If not, we can go on our way, just you and me." I look at Daryl with pleading eyes.

I can tell Daryl's softening. After a moment he grunts and nods. I throw my arms around him in a hug. "Thank you. I just… Hutch did a good thing for you. You almost died without him. Maybe he was acting selfishly, maybe it was all a trap. But I can't just leave without knowing more." It's true. Now that Daryl's pointed out the inconsistencies about the group, I'm having my doubts. But at the same time, I can't believe that a group of people could just be evil. Even the Governor's people weren't bad; they were just tricked into believing the wrong person. Overall, my curiosity is burning at me, telling me not to let this go so easily.

Daryl just nods and we sit there in silence for a bit. "Alright," he says. "But we ain't doin' more tonight. I ain't sneakin' up on them in the dark and you ain't either. From what I figure, we oughta be far 'nough away now from them to be safe. I ain't seen much in the way of a perimeter or traps. They seem to think themselves safe. Hopefully they ain't come in the middle o' the night, slicin' our throats." Daryl adds darkly, throwing another branch into the fire.

A shiver runs through me. Daryl notices and throws his arm around me, pulling me closer to him and the fire. I try not to think too hard about it, but I can't help it. My hands start shaking out of nerves, and I quickly clasp them between my knees to hide it.

"Hey," Daryl says softly, "'s alright. I won't let 'em take you away." He holds me tighter. I start feel a flush creep into my cheeks. The more I think about it, the worse it gets. I swear Daryl can feel the heat radiating from me and I just want to die. I close my eyes at the thought. I shouldn't use those words so lightly, especially not for something so frivolous.

Whispering, I respond, "I know."

We stay like that for who knows how long, neither one of us saying a word. Suddenly, we hear a popping sound and we jump. Daryl immediately grabs his crossbow, I go for the knife in my belt. We're both tense as we look around, trying to find the source of the sound. Suddenly Daryl chuckles. I follow his eyes to see what he's looking at.

"Look who found us?" he says softly. "Hello Flopsy." He pulls the trigger on his crossbow, and comes up with a fairly sizable rabbit. "Little guy went lookin' for our nuts. Guessin' he's gettin' ready for winter."

I smile. "You know, Flopsy was a girl." I say, trying to shake thoughts of Daryl from head.

Daryl smiles wryly, "Well, lookee here, this one's a girl too!" he hoots.

"Ugh, Daryl!" I say, groaning. "I did not need to know that!" I feel my face flame up again in embarrassment.

Daryl just chuckles. "What can I say? I'm an expert at spottin' these things!" I blush further and give Daryl a shove. "What? I meant at huntin' and wildlife! What was you thinkin'? Dirty thoughts girl?" Daryl tsks at me. "Get yer mind outta the gutter!" He laughs some more.

"Oh please," I say, willing myself to come up with something witty. "The only dirty thoughts I'm having are about how much you need a bath!" I wrinkle up my nose and wave my hand in front of it. "I'm surprise anything crosses our path anymore! I have half a mind to run away myself!"

Daryl looks at me in shock. Suddenly, he grabs me, pulls me in close, and buries his face in my collarbone, taking a deep sniff. "Phew, seems to me yer smellin' yourself!" he says, laughing. He continues to hold me for a few minutes, while our laughter dies down. He's so close, I can count every hair on his face. My eyes stop at his lips, and I find myself wondering what it'd be like to kiss him. I shiver again.

"You cold?" Daryl asks suddenly, pulling away from me. He goes to the fire and starts poking at it. "I dunno if I can make it much bigger. Ain't wantin' to risk bein' seen." He starts going through his pack and comes up with a ripped sweatshirt. "Here," he says, thrusting it at me. "'s best I can do fer now."

"Thanks," I say, trying not to sound too disappointed. It was crazy to think about kissing him. He would never see me that way. I pull on the sweatshirt. I don't think I've ever seen him wear it, so it's probably just something he picked up along the way. Still, I can't help but think that it smells like him.

"Don't mention it." he says, and he starts cleaning and preparing the rabbit he just killed. "'s gonna start gettin' cold again. Should probably start thinkin' 'bout grabbin' some sweaters and jackets next time we find a house."

"If we find a house," I reply. "We've been in the woods for awhile. Other than that cottage, there haven't been too many houses."

Daryl grunts. "Maybe we best leave them woods then. Find ourselves some winter shit."

"But what about the tracks? Finding the others?" I ask. "We're so close! We lost the trail not too long ago. They couldn't have gotten far." Remembering something, I continue, "We lost the trail around the time we found Hutch's. Maybe someone from Hutch's camp saw them. Hutch saw us after all."

Daryl nods. "True," he says.

"All the more reason for us to stick around and talk to Hutch and his people." I brighten up. "Maybe they have some winter stuff we can trade for!" Daryl just grunts. "Hey," I say gently. "I know you don't trust him and his people, but it'll be okay. We'll play it safe."

"Can't have it both ways." Daryl replies.

This confuses me. "What do you mean?"

"We stay and watch Hutch's camp… we're lookin' at maybe a day or two. Put us further from the people we're trackin'. You wanna take that risk?"

I bite my lip. Daryl has a point. But at the same time… I shake my head. "Hutch and his people are a sure thing. These tracks, not so much. I think it's worth investigating Hutch's camp, and seeing what we can get from them. They can potentially provide us information or supplies." Nodding, I conclude, "Yes, I think it's worth the risk."

Daryl nods. "Alright. We start tomorrow." he says. "Meantime, eat." He hands me a piece of rabbit and our hands touch briefly. Looking up, I make eye contact with Daryl. He looks back at me seriously. "I don't trust 'em" he says. "But I trust you. If this is what you want, then we'll do it."

Letting go of my hand, he goes to back to the fire. Looking at the piece of rabbit in my hand, I think on Daryl's words. I hope I'm not leading him astray.


	14. Chapter 14

I spend the rest of the night trying to avoid Daryl. Well, avoid being too close to him. I can't exactly avoid him altogether; that would be weird and I think even he would start questioning it, and that is definitely not a question I want to answer. But I do try to keep some distance between us. Nothing good will come from me mooning over him like some silly schoolgirl.

As I'm falling asleep though, I can't help but think of how close we were earlier. We could've kissed! All I had to do was lean in slightly to close the gap and I would've known… I would've known what Daryl's lips felt like, what he tasted like… Shaking my head, I try to push the thought out. Besides, I don't want to kiss Daryl. I want him to kiss me. And I know that that will never happen. Still, I fall asleep with thoughts of Daryl running through my mind.

The next morning, I'm awakened by Daryl gently shaking me. "Hey there," he says softly. The air is crisp and cool and I shiver. "Ya cold?" he asks.

I try not to let my teeth chatter as I nod. It seems as though overnight the temperatures have plunged. Frost is covering the ground. If Daryl and I aren't careful, we might freeze as winter starts setting in. Even though it's impractical, we might have to start carrying a tent around with us. Better yet, we should probably just go back to the cottage and stay there. Any kind of indoor shelter will be a blessing once the snow starts settling in.

"Here," Daryl says, and before I can say anything, he opens up my sleeping bag and climbs in beside me. "Ain't never gonna get anythin' done if you can't warm up enough to get up." He puts an arm around me and pulls me in close. Hugging me against his chest, he starts vigorously rubbing his hands up and down my arms, trying to warm me up. "That better?"

It is. This time I'm able to nod with limited shivering. Now that I'm warming up, I'm starting to realize how intimate this is. My face flushes and I get even warmer. I bury my face into Daryl's neck, trying to hide so he can't see me blushing. This is crazy. This is clearly all just for survival. Nothing more.

"Easy there." Daryl says softly. "I gots ya. Plenty of warmth to go around." He laughs softly against my head. I can feel his laughter rumbling in his chest, and the sensation pleases me, warming me down to my toes.

I look up at him, noticing once again how close we are. Closer than close. Unconsciously, I bring my hand up, over his chest, and go to caress his jaw. "Thanks," I whisper.

"Don' mention it." Daryl murmurs back, leaning into my hand. His own hand then leaves my arm and comes up to cup my face. "Beth," he murmurs, stroking my cheek with his thumb. He then closes his eyes and leans in. Closing my own eyes, I tilt my head up and-

"Hey! Beth! Sleepy-head! Get out o' there!"

I wake with a start. A dream. It was a dream. Untangling myself from my sleeping bag, I look out to find Daryl kicking my feet. It is cooler today than it has been, but nothing like in my dream. Still nothing dire.

"Come on Sleepin' Beauty!" Daryl says, kicking at my feet some more. "Ain't got all day!"

"Alright! Alright!" I say irritably, pulling my arms out of the sleeping bag. "I'm awake!"

"Damn! Someone woke up on the wrong side o' the bed this mornin'!" Daryl says, finally laying off me and walking away. As I look around, I see that it's unusually bright out and that Daryl already has a fire going and everything packed.

"Did I- did I sleep in?" I ask, confused and disoriented, my dream still weighing heavily on me.

Daryl shrugs. "Don' matter," he says, handing me some water and leftover rabbit. "Still got plenty o' time left. You was in a deep sleep, mumblin' and shit, so I figured I let you sleep bit longer."

I flush slightly. "I was talking in my sleep?" I ask, worried about what he might've overheard.

Daryl flashes me an impish grin. "Yeah girl, the things I heard…" he trails off, raising an eyebrow at me. "What would your daddy think?"

There's an awkward moment as I try to process everything. What did I say? What did Daryl hear? Does he know I was dreaming about him? Does he know exactly what I was dreaming about doing with him?

In my moment of panic, Daryl quickly stops grinning. "Sorry," he mumbles gruffly. "Wasn't funny."

What wasn't funny? What I was dreaming about? Or- "Oh. Dad." I say, as it suddenly hits me that unlike Maggie and Glenn, who I _know_ I'll see again, Dad is dead. I'm hit with a moment of shame as it dawns on me that I was more caught up in thoughts of Daryl that I didn't even realize what he was saying. What shames me even more is that I still find myself wondering what it is that Daryl heard. What is wrong with me?

Daryl sees the struggle on my face. "Hey," he says softly. "'s my fault."

I shake my head, trying to clear it of all thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I excuse myself for a moment and go behind some trees. After taking a few minutes to wash up and get ready for the day, I come back to find that Daryl has now packed my things up too.

"I could've done that myself." I say, taking my things from him.

"I know." he replies. "But I owe ya. I shouldn't have been makin' jokes 'bout your daddy like that." Daryl pauses for a moment, shuffling his feet and looking away. "He'd be real proud of ya." he finally adds.

"Thanks," I murmur, shouldering my pack. There's an awkward beat where neither of us say anything. I sigh quietly to myself. This is exactly why I can't have these thoughts of Daryl. It just ruins everything. Right now, our survival and finding the others is more important. "So, shall we see what Hutch is up to?"

Daryl nods. "I hope we ain't too late to catch 'em on their routine." he says. "If they's smart, they'd be up early huntin'. I wanna know how they've been feedin' a group like that."

I nod. I feel guilty about having delayed us this morning, but there's nothing more I can do about that. Straightening up, I'm determined not to hold us back for the rest of the day. I can and will do my part.

Silently, we take off, heading back towards Hutch's camp. We walk a few moments in silence, Daryl in the lead, when suddenly he stops. Thinking he's seen someone or that we've been spotted, I freeze in place. A moment goes by and then Daryl chuckles softly.

"What?" I whisper, confused as to what had just happened.

"I jus' found another trail." Daryl whispers back. "I wanna see what's goin' on at their camp firs', but if I'm right in my thinkin', this may lead us somewhere else interestin'. See where they's gettin' their shit."

"That's good!" I say back, smiling brightly. "If it turns out we can't trust them, then we can at least take some of their supplies or at least figure out what they've got going on. Maybe we can find something that'll help us." Adjusting my pack on my shoulders, I add, "I still hope they're good people though. I'd like to talk to them and see if they've seen anything that might help us track down Maggie and the others."

Daryl nods, and turns to continue towards Hutch's camp. Pausing, he then turns back to me and says, "I didn' hear nothing."

"Hmmm?" I ask, cocking my head to the side, trying to hear if anyone was headed our way.

"This mornin'." Daryl clarifies. "I mean, I could hears you was mumblin' and shit in yer sleep, but I couldn' actually hear ya."

"Oh! Well… okay." I say lamely, immensely relieved. I go to start walking and Daryl does too.

After a few more minutes, he asks, "So… what were ya dreamin' 'bout?"

Huh. This is new. Daryl doesn't often start conversations, especially not ones that aren't directly related to survival. "I don't really remember," I respond vaguely, shrugging it all off. "Why?"

Daryl shrugs and says gruffly, "Jus' makin' conversation." He starts walking faster and we soon fall back into silence.

Something feels off, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Shrugging, I keep pace with Daryl. I push all thoughts of Daryl and weird conversations out of my head. It's probably nothing. Just me projecting my awkwardness about my feelings towards Daryl, I tell myself.

Before too long, we're back on the ridge we were before, looking clear down into Hutch's camp. A couple of the men are still there, but it's mostly just the women and the baby. Motioning to get down, Daryl and I belly-crawl along the ridge, trying to get closer. We're just about within earshot of the camp when a twig snaps behind us. Suddenly the whole camp looks up in our direction.

And the baby starts crying.


	15. Chapter 15

[Author's Note: I haven't seen season 5 yet. Yes, I am aware of the major upset that happened at the end of the last episode. I am trying not to think about it. If you would kindly refrain from mentioning it in the comments, it would be greatly appreciated. The less I think about it, the less of an impact it will have on me, the more I'll be able to enjoy season 5 when I finally do get around to watching it. Thanks so much for understanding guys. You rock! Enjoy this week's chapter =) ]

Daryl quickly grabs me and pulls me down. He's lying half on top of me, as if to protect me. "Daryl?" I ask in a whisper.

"Shh!" Daryl says, holding me tighter and covering my mouth with his hand. His body is rigid with tension.

I think about the people below. Did they see us? Are they going to come after us? Neither Daryl nor I make dare make a move or any sound.

As we lie there waiting, it occurs to me how incredibly close Daryl is to me. Not just close, but almost on top of me. I can feel his weight pressed against me, warm and comforting. Despite the tense situation, I can't help but flush and think of how intimate this is. My hands are pressed up against Daryl's chest, and if I look up, I can see his face hovering just above mine. He's not looking at me though. He's trying to see if anything is happening with the people below. I close my eyes and allow myself one second to savor the moment, before focusing my attention on the situation at hand.

Concentrating, I extend my hearing. It doesn't sound like the people below are coming after us. In fact, it doesn't sound like they're moving or doing much of anything at all. I'm about to point this out when Daryl rolls off of me. I shiver, momentarily cold from Daryl's sudden departure. I hug my arms around myself, wishing it was still Daryl.

"Fuck that was lucky." Daryl said, seemingly oblivious to the state he's left me in.

"What happened?" I ask, pulling myself up but staying low to the ground.

Daryl shakes his head. "I dunno, but that baby distracted 'em. I don' think they saw us." Spitting to the side, he adds, "Don' think we should stay though. Jus' in case."

I nod. "So time to follow the trail you found?" I adjust my pack and get ready to leave.

Daryl winks at me. "You know it."

Keeping low to the ground, we backtrack the way we came for a bit. After a few minutes of walking, Daryl throws a hand up and stops me. "What d'you see?" he asks.

I look to where he's pointing and I wonder how I didn't see it sooner. "They're not even trying to hide their tracks." I say, looking at the incredibly blatant trail that's been forged through the woods.

"More'n that," Daryl says, looking grim. "This path's been a-walked on many times. This ain't no daytrip. This is somethin' they up to on the regular."

"So whatever is at the other end of this trail has to be really important." I say, stating the obvious. "It could be where they're getting their food or supplies."

Daryl nods. "If it is," he says quietly, "then maybe we can jus' go straight to the source. Won't have to worry 'bout talkin' to 'em or nothin'." He gets up and dusts himself off, as if that's that. He starts following the trail.

"Wait a second." I say, taking a few big steps to catch up. "Are you saying that if we find what we need, we aren't even going to stop and talk to them?" Daryl grunts but doesn't stop walking. "We're not even going to try to find out if they've seen anyone from the prison? We can't be the only ones out here!" Daryl keeps ignoring me. "Hey!" I say, reaching out and grabbing his arm to stop him. "Seriously, what is wrong?"

"I. Don'. Trust. 'Em." he growls at me.

I roll my eyes in exasperation. "Why not?" I ask him, forcing him to look at me. "Seriously. You have no reason not to trust them!"

"An' you have no reason to!" Daryl retorts, getting in my face. "I ain't havin' this discussion again. We don' need 'em! 'Specially not if we can find where they been gettin' their shit."

"Daryl," I say, trying to stay calm. "It's not a discussion if you keep shutting me down."

Daryl throws his hands up in exasperation. He starts to walk away from me, but then storms back. "Why you gotta be like this?" he asks. "Stupid girl. Gonna git yourself killed! Trustin' everyone and shit!" Daryls pacing around now frantically. "I can't protect you if you're gonna be throwin' yourself to the first person that comes along!" Daryl seems almost manic, and I'm confused by his reaction.

"Daryl. Daryl!" I say, reaching out for him. I grab his arm and he tries to shrug me off, but I hold tight. "Daryl! I'm not saying to blindly trust them. Let's follow this trail. Let's see where it goes. Let's watch them for one more night. Come on; they have a baby with them. How bad can they be?"

Daryl snorts in disbelief, but he's at least calming down. "Yeah," he scoffs. "Babies make everythin' better don' they?" Shaking his head, he pulls out of my grasp. "Come on. Let's jus' finish this."

We continue on our way in silence. I'm still perplexed by Daryl's reaction. It makes me worried that he's retreating further in on himself; the way he's so reluctant to trust anyone. I can't let that happen. I wish I knew what Daryl was thinking.

Suddenly, Daryl grabs me and pulls me off the path. Motioning that I should be silent, he leads us away from the path. Cocking my head to the side, my ears start picking up the sounds of people. It sounds like a fair number of people, men more specifically. Judging by the way Daryl is leading us, I'm guessing he's trying to cut a path around the trail, hoping to circumvent the group. Keeping low, I focus my attention on my surroundings, trying not to break any twigs or branches; anything that would potentially tip-off the others.

After a few minutes, we come across a clearing. In the centre of it is an abandoned RV trailer that's been blocked up and reinforced by scrap panels of wood. I look at Daryl in confusion. Why would they be camping in the middle of the woods if they have a reinforced, enclosed area they could be staying in? Daryl frowns and shakes his head. Crouching low, he starts to belly crawl closer. I get down and join him.

Hutch is there in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by the group. There's 7 of them altogether. They're laughing and patting each other on the back, their voices overlapping in distinct jovial conversation. They're not even trying to hide. It's as if they don't have a care in the world. They seem healthy and well-rested; if I didn't know better, I'd think they were on a big hunting trip or a camping trip, not fighting to survive. That's when I notice that a few of them are holding what appears to be rabbits or something. It's hard to tell through all the blood. There's more than enough meat to feed their camp of a dozen people for the night. I wonder how they were able to catch so much.

I turn to Daryl, to see what he thinks. His face is completely pale and devoid of colour. I want to get his attention, find out what's wrong, but I fear making noise. Daryl looks sickened and almost frightened. It's scaring me.

Looking back at Hutch and his group, I try to figure out what it is that Daryl is seeing. I look to each face, seeing no one I recognize. I feel someone grab my hand and I almost scream, before realizing that it's just Daryl. He's still looking at Hutch's group, transfixed. He doesn't even seem to realize he's now holding me, as if to keep me close and protected.

I'm still trying to figure out what has caught Daryl's attention when Hutch and his group start to leave. However, two men stay behind, posted on either side of the trailer, as if to stand watch. It's only as the group starts receding in the distance that I realize that not everything I heard before came from them. Listening closely now, I hear shouts and bangs coming from within the trailer. Does Hutch have walkers locked up the way Daddy had them in our barn?

As I try to listen more closely, I start creeping forward on the ground without realizing it. It's only when Daryl grabs me and holds me down that I realize what I had been doing. I freeze in place and concentrate. That's when it dawns on me: walkers don't have voices.

I look to Daryl in fear and he nods grimly. We stay there for a few moments longer, unable to tear ourselves away.

One of Hutch's men, a tall skinny black guy bangs back on the trailer. "How many times I have to tell you to shut the fuck up?" he yells. He opens a small hatch on the side. "Don't make me shoot you!"

With the hatch open, it makes the yelling from inside the trailer come through loud and clear. Daryl and I are lying on the ground holding our breath when we hear a deep rumbling voice yell out: "Just tell me what you monsters did with the baby! Judith! Judith!"


End file.
